


Quiescent

by FeelAroundTheRoom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Long, M/M, Multi, Slow Build, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:25:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 53,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeelAroundTheRoom/pseuds/FeelAroundTheRoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Derek returns to his hometown to build his new pack. He starts by biting two high school losers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also posted at FF.net  
> Just an extra warning, this is very slow in the beginning, but it picks up.  
> Also, it hasn't been beta'd, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors

**Act 1: Daydreams**

PART ONE

Scott and Stiles had only to stop at their lockers before leaving school. The plan was set in motion from here on: find the "beast" and win the hearts of millions. Well, not necessarily 'millions,' but the population of Beacon Hills would be nice. And respect, respect would be nice as well.

Before the two could even take their first steps out of class, they heard Jackson Whittemore call to them. Jackson looked just as smug and entitled as usual, with his perpetually cocky sneer on his perfect Abercrombie&Fitch face. Stiles knew it was somehow more directed towards him than Scott.

"Are you two headed for another night of moronic fun?" Jackson asked, walking past the pair, just slowly enough to engage in a conversation. Scott and Stiles wished he would have kept on going, but he didn't, so they tried their best to ignore him. They wanted to be especially deaf to his insults today, in order to mentally prepare for their life altering night. "Or, are you going home to write romantic poetry on your sexually deprived lives?"

Scott scowled at Jackson's comment. Stiles was prepared to fire back, but Lydia Martin joined them. Lydia Martin, Jackson's perfect little girlfriend since freshman year. She walked up and knitted her arm with his. Together they looked like they popped out of a Macy's catalog. "Aw, leave them alone Jackson. You know that the freaky outcasts end up being the notorious serial killers Lifetime movies get inspiration from." The couple snickered together before strutting down the hallway.

Once the boys reached Scott's locker, Stiles dramatically slammed his head against the metallic door next to Scott. "Why is being that 'freaky outcast' she makes fun of, the only way to get  _any_  attention from someone like Lydia Martin?"

"You could be more like Jackson and buy her love." Scott turned his head to look down the hallway; he saw the couple making out in front of the double doors, forcing students to walk around them. Scott pointed to them. "It worked pretty well for him."

"I guess I could be an insufferable jerk, but the whole athletic-sports-captain-thing is totally out of my range of abilities." Stiles saw Scott silently laughing at his turmoil. "I'm in serious, agonizing,  _excruciating_  pain right now, and you're laughing your ass off. Thanks pal."

"No, it's just... I don't get what you see in Lydia. Yeah she's hot, but she's a total bitch." Scott scratched his head as he emptied his backpack. He was exchanging his schoolbooks for a flashlight, two water bottles, and a thermos of soup.

"Being hot compensates for being a bitch. No exceptions."

"Not in her case."

"Totally in her case! Lydia freakin' Martin is God's gift to me. One day she'll realize that and we'll have breathtaking sex. Then mind blowing sex. Then, just a lot of sex."

"Yeah, good luck with that Stiles." Scott shut his locker shaking his head in disapproval. The two teens made their way outside to Stiles' jeep.

"Just wait Scott," Stiles started the car once they were seated. "When we find the thing in the woods, we'll be famous. Then I'll have Lydia and you'll have Allison following you around like a lost puppy,  _begging_  for your love." Stiles laughed looking at Scott's expression.

Scott contemplated the thought, a smile on his face. His expression slowly dropped once he began talking. "Yeah, no. I don't think Allison would  _beg_  for anything, let alone my love. She's too amazing to do something like that. "

"Once we're heroes, you'll have plenty of amazing girls looking your way. Trust me."

·

Their plan wasn't nearly as well thought out as they had assumed. The past few weeks, hikers had called in complaints about some  _thing_ walking around at night. Then people reported seeing it during the day. Supposedly, the 'beast' in question was some kind of bear-wolf-possibly-eagle hybrid. No formal description was recorded. Stiles' father, the sheriff, had sent out some of his best men, and half of the Beacon Hills Hunter Association [better known as the BHHA] to fish this thing out of hiding, but to no avail. So of course, these two unarmed 17 year old boys thought they could find the mystery monster.

They wandered around for two hours before Scott got Stiles to admit they were lost. Worse yet, they were lost in the woods they'd spent their lives exploring. The two would never really get over that self-imposed shame.

"It's getting dark."

"I know that Scott." Stiles knew Scott was right, but he didn't want to admit how bad the situation was, especially to himself. Stiles loved his torrid ability to deny the worst situations life threw him. Unfortunately, it only caused him and others around him more problems.

"This was a stupid idea. It's getting dark, and my mom's gonna kill me if I'm not home before she is."

"Yeah, but it would have been cool if we had found the thing, whatever it was." Stiles sighed, completely and utterly defeated. Not only had his plan failed, he also felt like a five year old lost in a house of mirrors. "Just seeing it would have been cool too."

"Yeah." Scott looked around their surroundings one last time before facing Stiles. "Maybe we should call your dad? He could find us pretty quickly."

Neither of the boys knew exactly where Stiles had parked his jeep.

"No way." Stiles said, his eyes growing wide. "He'd never let me live it down."

"Then what should—"

"Scott?" Scott heard a sweet velvety voice call out to him. There wasn't a moment's hesitation. He knew it was Allison Argent. As she was walking towards the pair, she quickly threw something behind a rather large Pine tree. The boys couldn't identify the object, but it looked a lot like long stick. "What are you guys doing out here?"

Scott only stared at her. He always turned into a blubbering mess when it came to Allison. Stiles took charge before the strange inarticulate noises Scott usually made emanated from his mouth. "We were just, uh, taking a hike. In the woods."

"Just hiking in the woods? On a Tuesday afternoon? Without any hiking gear?" Allison laughed disbelievingly. "Really Stiles?"

"We... uh..." An audible breathe intake. "Yeah." Scott said. Stiles swore he saw a little drool drip from the lovesick boy's mouth.

"You guys aren't lost are you?" Allison smiled at Scott's odd response.

"Maybe." Stiles said, running his hand over his head, feeling the tips of his hair. "Only a little bit though."

Allison gave them another little laugh before pointing behind them, "Your jeep is about half a mile north from here. I passed it a couple of minutes ago."

"T-thanks." Scott sort of managed to say without sounding like a complete idiot.

"Of course. So, I'll see you two at school." Allison waved at the guys, before walking back the way she came.

Once she was out of earshot, Stiles turned to Scott. "What was she doing out here?"

Scott shrugged, still staring off at Allison's path in awe. His eyes retraced every step she took, committing them to memory. "Besides saving our ass? I don't know, we probably should have asked."

Stiles shook off the thought and followed Allison's directions. She was right. His jeep was only a few minutes away. By the time they reached the vehicle, the sun had set and Scott had pulled the flashlight out of his bag. He playfully shined the light on Stiles face.

When Stiles made his way into the driver's seat he purposefully thumped his head against the steering wheel. "We're idiots," he whispered, more to himself than Scott.

Scott sat in the passenger's seat and responded anyway. "Yeah, but odds are we'll grow out of it. Hopefully."

Stiles groaned. With his keys in hand, Stiles was about to start up the jeep when they heard a loud howl from outside the car.

"What the hell was that?" Stiles asked. Both he and Scott stared out the passenger side window.

"I don't know, but it sounded really,  _really_  close." Scott quickly turned to Stiles. He spoke before staring out the window again. "Should we go out there?"

Stiles violently shifted, almost jumping out of his seat in order to get a better view. "I don't know... Yeah. Yeah, we should. I mean, it's probably the beast-monster-thing, right?"

Scott shrugged, looking at Stiles again. His expression told Stiles he was just as freaked out as he was.

No. Stiles refused to be scared of some  _dog_  howling at the rising moon. Stiles jumped out of the jeep, with an unsurprising amount of maladroit.

"Where are you going?" Scott said, trying to go for a whisper, but failing miserably. The last thing he wanted was for the monster to find them. "Stiles!"

"We came out here to find the son of a bitch, and I'm not leaving until we do."

Scott seriously considered staying back in the car, but his conscience got the better of him. It always did.

"I think it came from.. this way." Stiles lead the way, heading east of their original location. "Okay, never mind. Maybe it was that way?"

Stiles spun around, but ending up going in the same direction as before. Scott silently questioned why he'd put his life in Stiles' hands.

"Let's just go back Stiles. Just being out here gives me this seriously creepy feeling."

They heard the noise again. It was definitely a kind of howl, but it couldn't have come from a wolf. It was too loud, and it almost sounded like actual words.

Scott and Stiles stopped and completely shut down when they heard another howl, arms bumping into each other. They stood glued to their spots, hardly breathing. The howl was too close.

"Okay, you were right Scott, let's go back."

The sound of crunching gravel circled around them. The boys tried to find the source, turning their heads in every direction. Scott and Stiles grabbed on to each other for dear life.

"I'm so sorry, Scott." Stiles started. "This is all my fault."

"Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"Yeah, but you don't have to say it."

They stood there for what seemed like an eternity. Their minds racing with all the possible ways they could die. What would Scott's mom say? Melissa McCall would probably be disappointed. Her only son dead, but at least then all ties to his father would be cut. Scott understood why she resented him so much. But what of Stiles' dad? Well, he'd die without Stiles. Who'd feed him properly? Or maybe they would both be fine?. Maybe their parents would be relieved to have their troublesome sons out of their lives. No more embarrassing parent-teacher conferences, or waiting up after they missed their curfews, no more sickening vegetables for dinner.

Scott and Stiles somehow convinced themselves death was the only option. They felt each other's body relax as the low guttural growling began. The predator was undoubtedly going for the kill. They could only hope they wouldn't feel anything.

Scott yearned for a quick end. Maybe the monster would strike somewhere fatal and that'd be that. Scott felt a cold sweat drip down his forehead. He'd begun coughing and nervously wheezing, a dangerous and very painful combination. He really needed his inhaler. While Stiles hoped he'd die from shock, before the monster even touched him. Sure, his chest would hurt, but at least he wouldn't feel anything claw at his flesh, tearing him to shreds. Actually his chest did hurt, the world was closing in on him and breathing was only getting more difficult. This was definitely a panic attack. Stiles clenched his hand over his chest.

Despite their pains, they simultaneously closed their eyes and let the monster approach them. Their bodies tensed up one last time.

·

It all felt like some kind of sick dream, except for the part where they woke up in the woods. That was all very real and very uncomfortable. Scott and Stiles were sprawled next to each other, awoken by the rising sun.

They sat up and studied their surroundings. They heard the nearby creek, its water running over rugged rocks and tiny fish splashing around. Scott used Stiles' shoulder as an extra balance.

Stiles' nostrils were hit with a small musky smell, followed by a young bird landing beside him. The bird was so close he could nearly touch him. He'd never seen a little sparrow act so chummy with a human before. Stiles could feel the bird's eyes on him, like he was trying to communicate something.

Scott spoke, interrupting the bird's eyes. "What the hell happened last night?"

Stiles turned towards Scott, standing up as he did so. Scott followed in suit. "I don't know, but my dad's gonna kill me." Stiles' father had five rules, staying out all night was breaking rule number 2.

Scott got this suddenly introspective look on his face before agreeing about his mother. They were ready to run back to the jeep, until they heard crunching twigs nearby. They held their breaths and listened closely.

A young man walked towards them and they instantly recognized him as Derek Hale. He stood before them, silent and waiting. Scott and Stiles looked to each other, than back to Derek. Still, nobody said anything. Derek's eyes shifted from one teen to another. Scott and Stiles looked to each other once again, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Stiles could feel the awkward tension building and spoke first. "Uh, hey. You wouldn't happen to know what happened to us last night, would you? We just kinda woke up here."

Derek slowly approached the teens. "The two of you were attacked by an animal last night."

Scott and Stiles looked themselves over, then each other. To their knowledge, they were perfectly fine. They certainly didn't feel like they'd been attacked by anything.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. Derek roughly yanked Stiles' shirt up. He earned himself one of Stiles' famous death glares. "Holy shit, what the hell was it?" Scott asked, partially covering his mouth.

Stiles looked down at himself and saw the large bandage over his torso and the cerise color of blood that had seeped to the base of the adhesive over night. "Shit, I can't even feel it." Stiles said, poking at his side.

Scott lifted his shirt as well and saw less blood on his part, but a bandage just as large. "I don't feel anything either."

Derek shrugged at the two. "It's probably the adrenaline. The pain will hit you in an hour or two."

The two boys remained silent. Derek flicked his eyes to the left. Scott and Stiles followed his gaze. "You left your jeep in that direction."

By the time Scott and Stiles looked back, Derek was gone.

"I feel like we've been Batman'd." Stiles said, whispering. Scott nodded and the two proceeded to run to Stiles' jeep in record time.

·

They met back up at school a few hours later.

"How did your mom react?" Stiles asked, leaning over the lab table in Chemistry class. He should have been working on his experiment, but figured his partner had it covered. Today, instead of the usual glares and insults, his partner was being pretty kind. Stiles might even say she was being flirty. He wasn't used to this kind of treatment, but he wasn't about to nip it in the bud either.

"It was pretty weird." Scott said, turned around from his table to talk to Stiles. "She thought I was at your house. She was surprised I even came home at all."

Stiles' mouth fell slack. "My dad had the same reaction. Why would they think we were at each other's house?"

Scott lowered his voice. "I don't know, but she said I called—"

"McCall, can you please leave Mr. Stilinski to fail on his own," their chemistry teacher, Mr. Harris, placed his hand on Stiles' lab table, leaning in closer to the boys. "I can assure you, he doesn't need any help."

Stiles snorted, much louder than he intended to and Scott turned back to his table. He'd rather not suffer the wrath of their ill-tempered teacher. Harris shot Stiles a dirty look before walking back to his desk. Scott tried to get back to the lab work, but Stiles interrupted him once again.

"I haven't felt any pain yet, have you?"

Scott thought about the question for a moment, touching his gut. He turned back once Harris focused his attention on another student. "No, not at all. That's weird right? I mean, I know Derek said the adrenaline was masking the pain, but maybe not?"

Stiles shrugged. "The brain to body connection will probably kick in once we see the cuts. Then it'll probably hurt like a bitch." Scott nodded.

·

After class Scott and Stiles went to the restroom to remove the bandages.

"What the hell?" Stiles watched Scott remove his first; there was nothing except a little smeared blood. He ripped off his own to see the same thing. Scott poked Stiles, testing the skin.

"So, Derek was lying?" Scott asked.

"I guess? But, why?"

"Why go through all this trouble to mess with us? That's pretty creepy." Stiles nodded in agreement.

"We have to find him. Let's go after school." Stiles said, putting his shirt back down.

"Or we could never see him again? I'd be okay with that." Scott leaned against a sink. "Derek's weird. I mean, I know his house burned down, so he kind of has a free pass, but..."

Stiles looked to Scott, "His house didn't just burn down, most of his family died in that fire. Dude's probably messed up in the head, but he found us in the woods and is probably the only person who could explain  _this_."

Scott nodded, then added, "But I have work right after school."

"Then I'll go." Stiles said and Scott nodded again, before leaving.

Alone in the bathroom, Stiles lifted his shirt and looked into the dirty mirror above the sinks. The adhesive left only thin red lines imprinting on his skin and a smidge of what was maybe blood, but besides that he was perfectly fine. Something wasn't adding up. Even if Derek had made up the attack and faked the injuries, why couldn't he remember last night? When he tried all he saw was a blurry grayish image, then a lot of white.

Stiles bit his lip, still looking at himself, and then his body went stiff. He heard footsteps and a thumping noise—no, it was a heartbeat? Stiles listened carefully, confused, but fully alert. For some reason his brain kept saying Jackson, but...

Jackson walked into the boys' restroom, stopped in the doorway, and glared at Stiles. Jackson pointed out the door. "You know the girls' room is that way, right?"

Stiles dropped his shirt and scowled before leaving. He hated Jackson.

·

Scott wouldn't have believed Stiles' heightened hearing story if he hadn't had his own experience. Gym class was a bitch for Scott, but not today. In fact, Scott broke the school record for the mile with an impressive 3 minutes and 46 seconds. He told Stiles in the final moments of their English class.

"Is that really fast?" Stiles asked. Despite Scott's terrible asthma and lack of general coordination, he knew more about sports then Stiles would probably hear in his entire life.

Scott smiled at Stiles ignorance. "The world record is 3 minutes and 43 seconds."

"No way. How could  _you_  almost beat the world record?"

Scott's smile grew even more. "I don't know! I didn't even feel out of breath. I probably could of kept going if Coach Finstock hadn't stopped me." Scott looked down at the floor, grin still on his face. "Allison saw. She seemed pretty impressed."

Stiles would never understand how Scott managed to pull off that adorable, happy, puppy-dog face and still not have a girlfriend.

"Now we  _have_  to find Derek." Stiles said as the final bell of the day rang. They walked out to the parking lot. "He's got to know what's happening to us."

"Will you be okay without me?" Scott asked looking nervous.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"So I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah." Stiles waved to Scott and watched him ride away on his one speed bike. He sat in his jeep, realizing he had no idea where to start. Where exactly did Derek Hale live?

Stiles rested his head against his steering wheel. He could hear all these voices. A boy heavily breathing, some girl was freaking out in restroom, another boy fighting with his father, a couple arguing, and Lydia Martin cheering on Jackson during lacrosse practice. He sat in his spot much longer than he should of; an alarm went off in his cell phone. Stiles remembered he still had work in an hour.

"Damn." Stiles started the jeep, and decided he'd just drive near the woods for a couple of minutes. If he found Derek awesome, if not, well, he tried.


	2. Part 2

PART TWO

Well, Stiles tried.

He drove around the woods aimlessly for about ten minutes or so, but he didn't see Derek Hale anywhere. It had to be a sign, and Scott thought so too.

"I didn't see him at all. God, where the hell is this guy? Where does he even live?" After a couple of tries, Stiles got a hold of Scott over the phone.

"Don't worry about it." Scott said, trying to calm Stiles as best he could, but he was slightly distracted. He was trying to feed the animals at the clinic, but having more trouble than usual.

"Should I try again later?" Stiles scratched his head. He was still in his car, but parked outside the local convenience store, his place of employment, Dan's Groceries.

"Nah, I say we just don't even think about him. Not finding Derek is a blessing. We shouldn't bother him. If he really made all that stuff up about us being attacked, he's probably not the safest person to be around."

"Alright." Stiles sighed. He knew where Scott was coming from, but he  _really_  wanted answers. "I'll talk to you later." He and Scott mutually hung up.

Stiles hit his head against his steering wheel before grumbling and forcing himself out of his jeep. He hated his job.

Once Stiles stepped foot in the building he was trapped in the establishment, four hours a day. His life became four poorly ventilated hours of restocking and recounting the inventory, over and over again. He threw on his uniform t-shirt and put on a false smile. He wanted to punch in and stay unnoticed, but his boss, James, wouldn't allow that. Like most adults in Beacon Hills, James had power over him and he mercilessly rubbed it in his face with jerkass-iness.

"Hey Stilinski, I've got a surprise for ya." James gave Stiles this way over the top grin as he spoke and roughly hit him on the back. "I'm promoting you to cashier for the day."

"James, I don't think that—" Stiles knew this wouldn't end well. He'd never been properly trained for this.

"Stiles, it's this kind of attitude that keeps you at minimum wage, and single." James nearly dragged Stiles to the front of the store. "You'll be fine," he leaned closer to Stiles, lowering his voice. "Just don't fuck it up or I swear to God, I will fire you."

Stiles quickly ran his hand over his head and forced a smile as the first customer pushed their cart up.

·

Scott was having a difficult time at work as well. The cats and dogs were all in a frenzy once his boss, Mr. Deaton, went up to the front desk. Scott walked back to the supply room to take a breath. He'd never strike a dog.  _Never_ , but he did feel like yelling. Yelling very,  _very_  loudly.

Scott felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He'd gotten a text from an unknown number.

_Put them in their place_

Scott wasn't sure what that meant, but it definitely struck him as weird. He looked out the window. Luckily, Scott didn't see anyone peering back at him. Except, maybe that was that worse? Or maybe the text was a prank, a very coincidental prank.

He walked back out to the cages and the dogs started again. He put his hand to his forehead and gave a little bark to an especially obnoxious Chihuahua. He hadn't meant anything by it, but it worked.

Not sure what to do next, he gave another dog a little growl and the room fell silent. Scott knew he looked like an idiot, smiling at a room of terrified dogs, but he felt incredibly awesome and didn't care.

Scott tried calling Stiles. He had to tell him about this, but Stiles didn't answer.

·

Stiles had the habit of being a tad bit neurotic under pressure, but he usually felt there was some kind of justification for his actions. Be it the way he was raised or him having to compensate for Scott's overly laid back attitude. Either way, it was one of his defining characteristics, but like most things do, it came with a price. He would become easily paranoid and prone to panic attacks, not to mention the constant anxiety.

When the older lady walked up to the register, he knew it was going to end in a confrontation. She had the look of a show mother who spent a little too much time partying with her daughter instead of parenting. Then there was the long receipt and bag full of obviously used products. Stiles kindly tried to tell her that she had to go to customer service if she wanted any kind of refund, but she wanted to be at the same register that had rung her up nearly a month ago.

Stiles could literally feel his coworkers and other customers watch him try to reason with the woman. Every time he tried to get a word in, she cut him off and she tossed around every little insult she could think of. Stiles didn't want to admit it, but it was getting to him. When he tried to refund her items, she watched over his shoulder, picking out every incorrect key he hit.

Stiles took a quick glance around the shop and realized no one was going to help him.

It must have been his heighten senses, because Stiles swore he could smell the smug satisfaction the woman felt, having broken Stiles into doing what she wanted. He could smell his coworkers' relief that it was Stiles that had to deal with her. Worse yet, he could smell the joy James received from Stiles' galling predicament.

As a matter of fact, Stiles would swear that everybody watching him was giving off a joyous smell. They all liked seeing him awkward and uncomfortable. This was nothing but a big game to them. Stiles was a joke to them. He could see them now, all smiles and laughing, at him.

He heard James speak to another employee. "Oh God, there goes Stilinski, freaking out again." Then he laughed. James stood there, barely even 20 feet from Stiles, laughing at him.

Stiles felt his breathing shallow and his chest constrict. He bent slightly forward, prepared for the incoming panic attack, but it didn't happen. Instead he scratched himself with his own nails. Stiles looked down at his right hand, only it wasn't his hand anymore. The fingers were swollen and bruised, while his nails extended. He hid his beastly claw before anyone could notice the change.

Stiles ran out of the store and into the shipment dock in back. He hid behind large crates and cardboard boxes filled with the surplus stock. His heart felt like it was going to explode as he dialed Scott's number and watched his other hand transform into an animalistic appendage. He had no idea what was happening to him.

Scott answered immediately; he'd been waiting for Stiles to get back to him. "Stiles, you're never gonna believe—"

Stiles had to cut him off. "Scott, I need you to get over to here." He felt himself growl in pain, his jaw felt like it was unhinging. "I'm at Dan's Groceries." Stiles dropped his phone. The pain had become so unbearable, like a ringing in his ears, blocking out everything else. He could hardly hear his cell phone smash against the floor. The battery popped out, disconnecting his and Scott's call.

He let out a little cry of pain, but stopped when he heard footsteps coming his way. Stiles' heart pounded a little faster and his lungs drew in past their capacity. His mouth watered with anticipation. There was only one thing he was sure of, whatever was headed his way had to die. He wouldn't feel satisfied until he took that person's flesh and tore it in his hands and tasted it between his teeth. He had to.

Stiles' hands clammed up itching for contact. He wanted to jump out and attack, but his instincts told him to let the prey unknowingly walk towards him instead.

Derek quickly approached Stiles. Without warning he pushed him down and held him there. Stiles felt his body take over, and let his mind rest in the backseat. A growl escaped his mouth, making his body tremble. Derek growled back. Stiles instantly felt scared and insecure. Somehow, Derek looked a lot bigger than he had before. Somehow, he'd become more intimidating then his already scary self. The fear made Stiles' heart slow then miraculously pick back up.

"Stiles, I need you to listen to me." Stiles whimpered at the sound of Derek's voice. "You have to calm down."

Stiles tried to free himself from Derek's grasp, but to no avail. Stiles resigned, but managed to articulate a few words. "All watching." Though he could feel the sounds emit from his throat, he couldn't believe how he sounded. Distorted and bestial.

"What? Who was watching?" Derek asked, trying to understand Stiles' pain. "Were they watching you?" Stiles nodded. "Then ignore them, they don't matter Stiles. Just relax."

Derek moved in closer to Stiles, looking directly into him. "Just breathe, steadily." Derek waited until he felt Stiles' chest pound in a sort of even rhythm. "Focus on my hand."

Stiles did as he was told. He only allowed himself to feel Derek's hand on his chest. He made that palm was his entire world. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Stiles felt his body return to normal, and the pressure on his jaw ceased. His mind was back in the driver's seat, and he found himself not only focusing on Derek's hand, but on Derek. Stiles stared at him, completely in awe. He couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"What was happening to me?" Stiles asked once Derek allowed him to sit up.

"You were shifting."

"Into what?" Stiles felt his face, checking his jaw in particular.

"Into a werewolf."

"What? Wait, what do you mean, like a  _werewolf_ , werewolf? Like the fictional movie monster?"

"I'd prefer to not think about it that way, but yeah." Derek sat besides Stiles, their arms pushed up against each other and his back against the wall, Derek silently watched the door separating them and the parking lot. The moment felt so insouciant Stiles had to take advantage of it. He gently leaned his head against Derek's shoulder. Derek didn't say anything, but Stiles knew he should enjoy it while it lasted.

He eventually lifted his head when Derek began talking again. "Scott is coming."

"How do you know his name?" Stiles processed the thought, in all the time he and Scott had known Derek, they'd never actually introduced themselves. "How do you know my name?" Derek ignored him and waited for Scott to sneak in.

Scott walked into a rather unexpected scene. The last person he thought he'd ever see lounging besides Stiles was Derek Hale. Scott turned his attention on Stiles, staring at him. "You found Derek? Why didn't you tell me over the phone?"

"I didn't, he found me."

"He was having a panic attack." Derek said, standing up. Scott shifted his gaze to Derek then back to Stiles, kneeling in front of him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"But I thought you stopped having those? What were you panicking about?" Scott moved in closer to Stiles. Derek could sense a protective air coming from Scott.

Stiles groaned, then glared at Derek. Thinking he should have kept his mouth shut. "Nothing. I didn't actually have a panic attack, something else happened."

"What?" Scott asked. Stiles turned his head to face Derek and Scott mimicked him. They both stared at him expectantly.

"He started shifting."

"Shifting? Into what?" Scott asked, standing back up.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Into a werewolf."

Scott narrowed his eyes at him. "You're joking, right?"

Derek growled at the teens, showing off his fangs. Needless to say, Scott and Stiles believed his story.

"Alright." Stiles said, standing up shaking off his momentary trepidation. "So, why exactly are we werewolves now? How did that happen?"

"When I found you guys in the woods, you had been mauled by some kind of animal. You were both nearly dead, so I brought you back."

"How'd you do it?" Scott asked. He was clearly fascinated by the whole thing and he clung on to Derek's every word. He had to know every possible detail.

"I had to bite you." Scott and Stiles exchanged worried glances. Derek glared at them. "I disinfected the wounds afterwards."

"No, it's not that, but thanks. It's just..  _Why_? Why would you want to save us? We're two socially awkward high schoolers that got lost in the woods. There is literally  _nothing_  we could do to pay you back for that." Stiles said, accompanied by Scott nodding in agreement.

Derek looked the two over. "You can pay me back by being in my pack."

"You have a pack?" Scott asked.

"Not yet," Derek said, carefully picking out his words. "But that's why I came back to Beacon Hills."

"If we're in your pack, what does that make you?" Stiles asked, running his hand over his mouth.

"I'm an alpha," Derek started, he considered going into more detail, but decided against it. He figured a lesson on werewolf hierarchy wouldn't bode well at the moment. He chose to stick with the basics. "And you two are my betas." Scott and Stiles exchanged looks again. They could accept that.

"So, what do we do now?" Scott asked. There was a certain gleam in his eyes, a shine Stiles had only ever seen once, the year Scott's father came back home and promised he wouldn't leave again.

Derek spoke to Scott first, "You should go back to work." Scott nodded and walked back through the door he entered from. He'd told Mr. Deaton he'd only be gone a few minutes.

Once Scott was out of sight, Derek shifted his eyes on to Stiles. "And you should probably find a job that doesn't make you so nervous. I could smell your anxiety from the parking lot."

Stiles glared at Derek before speaking, "Somehow, I think this is the best I'm gonna get."

"Then I hope you're ready to give your two weeks. I'm not about to let you expose yourself, then get us all killed."

" _Killed_? That's a little extreme. Maybe publicly ostracized, but killed?" Stiles asked, scratching the back of his head.

"There are people who hunt our kind. Once they know what you are, they'll kill you."

Stiles ran his hand over his mouth again. "Okay. Well, I'm freaked out now."

"Good. These people are ruthless. They'll put a bullet in your head and won't think twice about it." He turned to leave the same way as Scott.

"Hey, Derek, before I forget, or lose the courage to say so, thanks. You know, for saving my life.. and Scott's too." Stiles wasn't sure what expression to make with his face. He'd never had to thank anyone for pretty much bringing him back to life before. "Though, you could have taken us to the hospital instead."

"I doubt either you or Scott would have made it if I had waited for an ambulance."

"Oh, alright. And, uh, thanks for coming here while I was flipping out. That was pretty cool too." Stiles felt stupid saying thanks. He imagined what Derek thought of him. Probably as some weird kid who needed to stop talking and go away.

Derek nodded at Stiles before walking out.

For no reason in particular Stiles felt like attacking the wall. To his surprise, he busted through the plaster wall without hurting himself. Unfortunately James heard the noise and came running to see what happened. That's essentially the story of how Stiles got fired from Dan's Groceries. But, at least Derek got what he wanted. In the end, wasn't that all that mattered? Scott thought so, but Stiles thought Scott took the alpha-beta pecking order much more seriously than he did.


	3. Part 3

PART THREE

Scott and Stiles hadn't realized it before, but people were noticing them. Not just noticing them, but also showing some well overdue respect. They knew it had to be their wolfy status subconsciously influencing the students of Beacon Hills, finally convincing them that the McCall-Stilinski duo was actually composed of two pretty cool guys.

School in general was improving, Chemistry class turned out to be one of the highlights of the day, at least for Scott. Mr. Harris had let the class break into pairs for another lab.

"Partners?" Stiles asked Scott. He nodded and they sat together in the front corner of the room. Neither of them wanted to say anything, but they could both swear a couple of girls were looking their way with big flirty smiles. It was very flattering and ego boosting.

Stiles had barely put his backpack on the table when Allison walked up to them. She was all smiles as well, but Stiles knew they were for Scott.

"Hey guys." She said, her eyes only on Scott.

"Uh, hi." Scott said. Stiles predicted Scott would start babbling at any second.

"Scott, do you want to work with me on this?" Allison asked, holding up the worksheet Mr. Harris was passing out. She'd completely forgotten Stiles presence at the lab table.

Scott mindlessly nodded. "Yeah, of course." Stiles rolled his eyes, but gave his seat to Allison. The pair smiled, staring into each other's eyes. Stiles felt an intense desire to ruin the moment by calling Scott out, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Scott's only crime had been wanting to get the girl, and Stiles couldn't hold that against him.

So he looked around the room and of course, everyone else was already partnered up. He slumped his shoulders and edged towards the side of the classroom.

"Having a little trouble Mr. Stilinski?" Harris walked up behind Stiles and pointed to a girl in the corner table directly across from Scott and Allison. Stiles hadn't noticed the girl before. "Ms Reyes doesn't have a partner yet."

Stiles made his way over to the girl. She looked nervous. "Hi." Stiles said sitting beside her.

"Hi." She didn't look him in the eye when she replied. She ran her hand through her messy blonde hair, and then rummaged through her backpack for a pencil. Stiles tried not to stare at her peculiar antics.

They ended up not talking much. Stiles didn't mind, he kept getting this weird vibe from her and it made him feel awfully uncomfortable. Something about the girl seemed off. He preferred their silence opposed to actually trying to converse with her.

Stiles' gaze would occasionally drift off to Scott and Allison's table. They were getting along just fine. As hard as it was for him to admit, Stiles wanted his own Allison. He wanted someone he could flirt with during chemistry class too. He could only pray it would end up being Lydia Martin.

By the time Economics class rolled around, Scott told Stiles about working with Allison.

"It was pretty awesome." Scott had a permanent grin plastered on his face. "She talked to me and it was amazing." Stiles got the feeling that there was nothing he could say to ruin Scott's moment.

"I'm assuming you spoke back, right?"

Scott scoffed, laughing all the while. "Yeah."

"And what exactly did you say?"

Scott dropped his expression. "I don't really remember, but I think we're gonna hang out with her after school."

" _We_  are? As in, both of us and Allison?"

"Yeah. Allison invited the both of us to hang out at the lacrosse practice with her." The silly grin popped back up on Scott's face.

Stiles narrowed his eyes disbelievingly at Scott. "Do you even hear yourself? It's bad enough I have to suffer gym class with Jackson, now we're gonna watch him play some stupid game."

"They aren't actually playing, just running drills."

"Scott..."

"Please Stiles," Scott shot him the most heartbreaking puppy-dogface he could muster. "Please. I know you hate Jackson. I do too, but I can't sit out there with Allison for an hour, not by myself. I need you there."

Stiles turned away from him, trying to focus on whatever Coach Finstock had written on the chalkboard. "Nope. Sorry Scott, you're on your own buddy..." Stiles quickly glanced back at Scott. "Besides, you did fine during Chemistry class, what do you need me for?"

Scott didn't falter. Stiles tried to resist the urge to look back at Scott, but failed miserably, ultimately giving in. "Fine, but if he gives me any crap, I'm gone. I'm not gonna spend my precious time being insulted by some jerk."

"Alright, sure." Scott said, an enormous smile engulfing his face again. He looked forward and took down some notes before turning back to Stiles. "Allison looked pretty hot today."

"We're not talking about that."

"But, she did, right?" Scott kept smiling as he turned forward again. Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott looked back to Stiles again, something about the look in his eyes worried him. "Hey, you're alright, right?"

Stiles ran his hand over his head. "Yeah, I guess, but.. Do you know that girl I was working with in chem?"

"Erica? Uh, kind of. What about her?"

"I don't know. Something about her was really weird."

"I know what you mean. She's kinda out there, but she's epileptic."

"Maybe that was it. I don't know, but working with her really threw me off."

Scott shrugged. "Well, at least you'll see Lydia at the lacrosse practice." Stiles perked up. Now watching the team after school didn't seem nearly as bad.

·

Watching the team really wasn't all that bad. Jackson was too busy on the field to notice them sitting out on the bleachers, Lydia was too busy cheering him on to notice Stiles staring at her, and Scott was enjoying his Allison Argent time. It was a win-win-win situation all around.

"So do you think they have a chance of winning the first game?" Allison asked Scott. The team was making pretty decent shots as they ran their drills.

"Hopefully." Scott said, trying to sound as optimistic as possible. "They're doing really well right now."

"I hope they do well during their game, too. My dad has been dying to see a lacrosse game."

"He hasn't been to one before?"

"Neither of us has." Allison said smiling. She was ready for the common reaction she received when people found out she'd never seen a lacrosse game before. Allison had quickly learned that lacrosse was a big deal in Beacon Hills. She covered her mouth in anticipation.

"There aren't lacrosse teams in Colorado?" Scott asked, hoping to earn back her warm smile, but better yet, Allison laughed.

"There are, but the sport really wasn't that popular where I've lived." She pushed her hair back, still smiling at Scott.

"Where else have you lived, besides here and Colorado?"

"Well, I was actually born here, my parents are both from Beacons Hills, but we moved to Kansas when I was five. We moved from city to city for a few years, then to L.A. when I was seven. Then I lived in New York from twelve to fourteen and came back here after I turned sixteen."

"Where did you live when you were fifteen?" Scott asked, just innocently curious. He noticed she skipped that number. Allison slightly blushed for a moment, her face dropping. "I'm sorry, if you don't want to answer that you don't—"

"No. No, It's fine. I lived with my aunt for a year in Nevada."

"Oh, that's awesome."

Allison gave him a small smile, though she was still obviously uncomfortable. "I don't usually tell people about that. Just because, it seems like I was kicked out. Most people think I was in Las Vegas, partyin' it up. I guess can see why, with no real parental supervision." Allison gave Scott a weak little laugh before looking off.

Scott smiled at her, trying to sooth her worry. "I don't think that. You've always come off as levelheaded to me. I'm sure you took care of yourself." Allison gave him a genuine smile.

She looked down at her lap and ruffled through her bag. "Oh, um, I think I left my notebook in my locker. I'm sorry, I'll be right back."

"Yeah, okay." Scott said, watching Allison practically run off.

Stiles just happened to see Allison leaving. He scooted closer to Scott. "You didn't scare her off did you? I swear Scott, I take my eyes off you for one second and..  _This_  happens."

Scott leaned against the caged backing to the metallic bleachers besides the field. "Nah, she just left something in her locker. You weren't listening in, were you?"

Stiles shook his head no. "I was kind of busy." He quickly glanced at Lydia, who was still sitting front and center, patiently watching Jackson. "What'd you two talk about?"

Scott beamed. "About her. Did you know she lived in New York? How many girls from Beacon Hills do you know that have ever even seen New York in person?"

"I'm sure Lydia has. Her family has a lot of money."

"Maybe, but she's no Allison Argent. Even her name is beautiful. Allison Argent." Scott kept smiling to himself.

Stiles, after realizing he didn't want to watch his best friend get off on some girl's name, decided to actually watch the lacrosse team. As expected, it was boring, but they looked good, possibly. Stiles really didn't know what a good lacrosse team looked.

After a minute or two of incoherently watching, Stiles caught eyes with one of the players. It was none other than Jackson Whittemore himself. Jackson glared, but returned back to the drills. Stiles felt cool relief run over him, for a second he thought Jackson was going to attack him. Sure, with his brand new werewolf strength he could probably protect himself, but he remembered the sick bloodlust he felt when he shifted. He'd rather not kill Jackson. If Stiles became a convicted murderer, odds are, his father wouldn't get re-elected.

"She's been gone too long, hasn't she?" Scott sat up suddenly worried. "You don't think she ditched us, do you?"

"Do  _you_  think she ditched us?" Stiles asked, only half paying attention, he fell back into Lydia World, but he saw Scott shrug. "I'm sure she'll be back, just give her a minute."

Stiles fully focused on Lydia again, but felt a weird sensation course through him, like something was coming. He ignored the feeling, as opposed to Scott who extended his arm and caught the delicately aimed rubber ball headed for them. Or maybe directly for Stiles? They couldn't be sure.

Lydia and the other handful of kids that had come to the open practice spun around and looked back at them. Lydia stared dumbfounded at Scott. "I can't believe you caught that. How?"

Scott didn't know what to say.

Coach Finstock ran up to the bleachers and started asking questions. "Is everybody okay? Who got hit?"

Jackson followed after him, smirking the entire jog there. "Sorry about that McCall."

Lydia glanced at Jackson as she spoke, before her eyes shifted back to Scott. "He caught the ball. It was amazing." She climbed up the seats to talk to Scott. "You are okay, right? Your hand isn't hurting, is it? The ball was coming at you at full force."

"I'm fine." Scott said tossing the ball back to Jackson. As the hype started to die down people focused back on their own conversations as the practice continued, but not Lydia.

"I'm good, too." Stiles said, trying to put himself on Lydia's radar, and it seemed to work… Sort of.

"That's good. I remember at one of my first practices, a ball came flying towards me and I broke my finger getting out of the way." She showed Scott and Stiles her small hand as her story went on. "I was so freaked out, I've heard stories from cheerleaders about breaking limbs and not healing right. Could you imagine me with some kind of deformed hand?"

"Never." Stiles said, lightly holding on to her hand. "It healed amazingly. If you hadn't said anything, I never would have known." Lydia smiled at him, actually smiled.

"Aw, thank you." She kept on smiling. "I'm sure we have classes together, but what's your name?"

And there went Stiles' good day.

He released Lydia's small warm hand from his grasp. "Stiles. We've had classes together since elementary school."

"Really?" she bit her lip and looked at Scott. "I know him, Scott McCall, but I'm completely drawing a blank on Stiles..."

"Stilinski."

"Stiles Stilinski... " Lydia tried remembering as she ran a hand through her long hair. "I'm sorry. That's really not ringing any bells."

Stiles face formed an involuntary frown. "It's fine."

As Lydia stood up, she turned to Stiles one last time, her face slightly scrunching up. "Are you that guy who wrote that poem in English class last year about—"

" _No_!" Stiles shouted, looking positively horrified. If there was anything he didn't want to be remembered for, it was that poem in read in his junior English class. "I think you're thinking of someone else. Someone that was  _not_  me."

Lydia nodded and returned to her original spot, in the first row of seats. Stiles dropped his head into his hands. "I hate my life."

"No you don't." Scott said, patting his friend's back while trying to hold in his laughter.

"I do. Who else would this happen to?  _Nobody_. Nobody, but me."

"If it's worth anything, I never like Lydia anyway. Or that poem either."

Stiles gave Scott one of his intense death glares. "No Scott. That is worth nothing to me." Scott shrugged, and Stiles returned to sulking in his self-pity for a few minutes. The lacrosse team practiced at their same consistence, but Scott felt himself becoming more agitated and discouraged.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure Allison ditched me. It's been a good ten minutes since she left." Scott looked around the field for even the slightest chance she was coming back.

"No she hasn't, she's too into you to not say goodbye." Stiles stood up. "Come on, let's go find her."

"You really want to look for her?" Scott asked. Not that he thought Stiles  _hated_  Allison, but he never thought he liked her enough to help him.

Stiles sighed, "One of our love lives has to work out, and I guess Cupid choose the one that's not competing with the hot, star athlete boyfriend."

Scott couldn't help the smile the wound up on his face. "I'm not smiling at your pain, but for having the best, best friend ever."

"Believe me, I know."

·

Finding Allison proved to be harder than they thought. Neither of them knew where she'd go.

"Do you know her locker number?" Stiles asked, hoping to at least find a starting point.

Scott bit his lip as he thought. "No."

"How do you  _not_  know where her locker is? That is like, step number one for an insane stalker."

"I'm not stalking her." Stiles held out his arms suggestive to their current mission. Scott narrowed his eyes as he spoke. "This hardly counts."

Stiles made an exasperated noise as he ran his hand over his head. "Did she drive herself here today? Maybe we could check if here car is still here."

"Yes! Yeah, she told me she did." The pair made their way out of the building and into the parking lot. The sky was getting darker and the lacrosse practice had ended. Most of the players had already left, but not Lydia or Jackson. Scott and Stiles spied them together near Jackson's very shiny, expensive car.

"Um, have you guys seen Allison Argent?" Scott asked carefully, Jackson glared, but Lydia smiled.

"She's the girl you were sitting with, right?" Lydia asked.

"Yeah, with the long dark hair." Stiles added. Lydia lightly smacked Jackson's arm. He rolled his eyes, but spoke to them regardless.

"No, we haven't seen her." He gave them an obviously annoyed sigh. "I'm having a party this Saturday, you two should come over."

Lydia smiled at them. "You two should definitely come. It's going to be fun."

"Uh, sure." Scott said examining the parking lot.

"By the way," Lydia added, pointing to a blue car in the corner of the lot, "That's her car. I've seen her drive it plenty of times." She gave them one last smile before getting into Jackson's car. Jackson glared before doing the same thing.

"So she's still here, but where?"

"Dude, Lydia Martin just made Jackson Whittemore invite us to his party. Do understand how big this is?"

"Not really." Scott continued to look around the parking lot until an idea popped in his head. "Do you think I could sniff her out?"

"Like a hound dog?" Stiles laughed.

"I'm being serious." Scott walked towards the school. "Maybe I can find her scent and that'll lead me to her."

"Maybe you should try listening for her voice, too." Stiles said half jokingly.

"Yeah." Scott stopped at the front doors and knelt down on one knee. He tried to catch a hold on Allison's voice. "That's actually a really good idea."

"Are you seriously doing this?"

"Shut up, Stiles."

Stiles pulled out his cell phone out of his pocket and examined the screen he'd cracked the other day. He waited a moment before speaking again. "Are you getting anything?"

Scott dropped his head. "No... What's the point? Girls like Allison don't like guys like me. They fall for guys like Jackson or other jerks like him."

"Come on Scott, you're like twice as awesome as him." Stiles sighed. "Try listening for her again, but this time, really,  _really_  concentrate."

Scott tried again. He figured he should try focusing on something close. He focused on his own heart. He listened to every beat until it got louder and louder. Every sound he heard seemed to take form all on it's own, molding detailed pictures in his mind. It started with the sprinklers out on the field, and then he heard voices.

"You think I'll give you an extension? This is the fifth time this month..."

"You have to calm down, these kids aren't worth..."

"...Allison, do you really think your dad's gonna be okay with that?" "Why do you care?"

Scott jumped up cheering, terrifying Stiles. "I can hear her!"

"Seriously? What's she saying? What's she doing? Where is she?"

Scott knelt back down, regaining his concentration again, listening for her voice. He had to cycle through the others again before he got back to Allison.

"Promise you won't tell him?" "Why would I do that to you?" Scott knew her voice, but not the male's. "I'll keep your little secret, but you're gonna owe." " Owe you what? Oh, I could help you get a girlfriend." "You know I only want one girl." He heard Allison giggle. He'd never heard her giggle like that with him. Not only that, she and the guy were flirting so blatantly, like it was a common occurrence.

Scott felt his blood rush to his face, his body heating with anger.

"What's happening?" Stiles asked as Scott stood up. Scott walked back out to the parking lot. "Hey, Scott, where are you going?"

Scott waited beside Stiles' jeep. Stiles quietly approached him. He could hear Scott breathing. Then breathing turned into low growls.

"Scott, what the hell did you hear? Come on, buddy, relax it can't be that bad."

Something about seeing someone else shift felt surreal, like he was imaging the whole thing. It made Stiles feel weak. Like he could only stand by and watch, his body wouldn't allow anything else.

Stiles was the last person who knew how to handle this kind of problem. Something told him Derek would know what to do.  _Derek_. Stiles had to call Derek, but how?

Scott howled out in pain, much too loudly. Stiles wouldn't have been surprised if all of Beacon Hills heard him.

Stiles lightly tapped Scott's back. Scott growled and tried to bite his hand. "Hey, bad dog! Calm down, all right? You're gonna get half of the state down here howling out like that." Scott growled at him again.

Stiles ran his hand over his head. He thought back to what Derek had said to him, though the look on Scott's face told Stiles he was probably too late.

"Scott, just listen to me, okay? Whatever is making you feel this way, it doesn't matter." Scott growled a third time. Somehow it was more intimidating than before, it made Stiles jump a bit. " _Okay_ , maybe it does matter, but it's not as big a deal as you're making it. Just breathe. Focus on breathing. Focus on  _anything_  besides what you're focusing on."

Scott fought to listen to Stiles. He fell to his knees, cowering, but trying to control himself. Stiles rejoiced, assuming he'd succeeded. "I can't believe that worked."

He looked down at Scott and saw how terrified his expression had become and something told him to turn around. Stiles physically jumped out of his own skin when he saw Derek's face barely two inches away from his. "Shit."

"No, it didn't work." Derek said in the most deadpanned voice Stiles could have ever imagined.

"Where they hell were you ten minutes ago?" Derek glared at Stiles, shutting him up.

"Get up Scott." Scott listened, still in wolf form and whimpering. Stiles watched Derek, completely in awe of him. Derek may have been a bit screwed up in the head, but that didn't make him any less of the BAMF Stiles was beginning to see in him as. Derek roughly grabbed Scott and shoved him against Stiles' jeep. "You need to calm down."

Scott changed back to his normal self, but the terrified expression still hadn't left his face. "Why couldn't I control myself?"

"You don't know how to yet. I'll teach, but we have to get out of here." The two boys stared at Derek. "Go now."

They nodded and jumped into Stiles' jeep. As they drove off, Stiles saw Allison exit the school building. He was starting to think that maybe she was the type of girl to run off. What little respect Stiles had for Allison evaporated before him.

As soon as they hit a red light Stiles turned to Scott. "What the hell did you hear that'd make you go bat shit crazy?"

Scott was slumped in the passenger seat. "Allison was flirting with some guy."

Stiles stared at Scott until the car behind him honked. "You went all werewolf-psycho-killer because Allison was  _flirting_  with some guy?"

"When you say it like that it sounds stupid." Scott said, refusing to look Stiles in the eye.


	4. Part 4

PART FOUR

As the week went on, Scott tried to avoid Allison at all costs. It didn't work.

Barely two days in, he fell for her Argent charm all over again. Then, to Stiles utmost dismay, Scott spent every waking moment devising a plan to ask her out on a proper date, far away from school and the lacrosse team.

Besides dealing with Scott and his lovesick puppy problem, Stiles found himself on Thursday morning, in Chemistry class, thinking about Derek Hale. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason he connected every little thing back to Derek. Like when he was writing up his lab report, he related the chemical change to one of a burning substance. Burning, like the Hale house three years ago, when Derek was about his age.

Before all the werewolf stuff started Derek was in school with Scott and Stiles, and the last time Stiles saw him was during his freshman year. Only moments after Derek learned that most of his family had burned to death in some kind of freak fire. Stiles watched his father and a deputy had escorted Derek off campus.

It was a somber sight that started a mass amount of vicious rumors about Derek and his older sister, Laura. Some said Derek was sleeping with a teacher, while others claimed he had something to do with the fire. It was even worse for Laura, especially after her death. Many believed it was a suicide, like Laura was punishing herself. People thought she'd known about the arson ahead of time and left her family to die, all for the insurance payoff.

As the day went on, his mind somehow focused more and more on Derek. Stiles didn't think it was possible, but  _everything_  he said was followed by the thought, 'would Derek agree?' Whenever someone else spoke he wondered if Derek would even give the person the time day.

In gym class, when Jackson made fun of his poor technique during a basketball game, Stiles wondered if Derek would allow someone to speak to him like that or punch them in the face. He assumed Derek would probably abet the more violent solution, but Stiles wasn't ready to get suspended. It happened again in his Pre-calc class, Stiles sat behind Lydia and could easily smell her sweet cotton candy perfume. He wondered what Derek would say about it. Stiles had to remind himself that either way, he still found it hot. It was Lydia Martin after all.

Maybe Stiles couldn't get Derek off his mind because he hadn't contacted him or Scott since the incident in the parking lot? Maybe he was worried about Derek? When Stiles tried to confide in Scott, the conversation somehow became about Allison and her cute timid smile, or how she was  _so_  beautiful and perfect. Stiles thought it better to keep these thoughts to himself. It wasn't that he wanted to  _just_  avoid talking about Allison, Stiles also didn't want Scott to get the wrong idea about his Derek-centric thoughts.

Nighttime only made it worse. Stiles tossed and turned for at least an hour before accepting these Derek-centric thoughts and letting them consume his dreams. Lately, everything was beginning to feel like some kind of dream. Nothing made sense, yet it all felt so undeniable real.

·

When Stiles woke up, he expected to hear birds chirping and see the sun painting his wall through the window. Neither of those happened. Instead he awoke in the woods, lying next to a sleeping Scott. The moon was bright and Stiles' internal clock told him it had to be around midnight. It was bizarre and Stiles didn't have any proof this was even really happening. Maybe he was dreaming? No. The sticks scratching his ass were all too irritating to be a figment of his imagination. Besides, Stiles hadn't perfected the art of lucid dreaming. At best he'd daydream and still be somewhat aware of the real world sounds.

Stiles looked around, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness, much faster than he was used to. He summed it up to one of the many perks of being a werewolf. It only took a second before he spotted Derek leaning against a large tree watching him. Stiles realized that he and Scott were in some clearing he'd never actually seen before, but it still felt so familiar.

"Why are we here, Derek?" Stiles asked. Before Derek could answer, Scott let out a rather loud snore. The two conscious guys looked down at Scott, he was sleeping in a partially fetal position. Stiles hit Scott's back, waking him up.

"What the hell? Where are we?" Scott asked, wiping at his face.

"I'd also like to know  _why_  we're here." Stiles piped in again as Derek approached them.

"As a part of my pack, or any pack, betas are expected to pledge their loyalty to their alpha."

Scott and Stiles stood on their feet, backing ever so slightly away from Derek.

"How did we get out here, Derek?" Scott asked, feeling especially brave. He wasn't feeling the same apprehension as Stiles.

"I summoned you while you were sleeping. You had no choice."

"Phone calls are a lot less creepy." Stiles said, "But what ever floats your boat, I suppose."

Derek narrowed his eyes. "I don't have either of your cell phone numbers." The three fell silent. For an awkward moment, nobody spoke.

"So you want us to pledge our allegiance? Is that like hazing, or something?" Stiles asked, breaking the silence.

"You pledge allegiance to a flag, what we're doing is a ritual that will bond the pack through loyalty and promotes an acceptance of our hierarchy. It officially makes me your leader and it'll make you two my head betas."

"You're joking, right?" Stiles asked, biting his lip. Something in his gut told him opposition wasn't the right route to take, but the situation was too peculiar to not question. He had to wonder, why tonight? Where had Derek been all this time? He'd been MIA for two days with zero explanation.

"Yeah," Scott said, agreeing with Stiles. "We're not going to do that." Stiles nodded in agreement. Scott couldn't bring himself to fully trust Derek. How could he? Derek haphazardly showed up and left without warning. Scott learned at an early age to never trust flighty individuals.

Derek looked at them incredulously. He hadn't expected them to say no. "Why not?"

"You've been our 'alpha' for about four days, two of which we didn't even see you." Scott said, but as soon as he did Derek growled at him, and he whimpered back. Stiles figured it was his turn to step in.

"That's not nearly enough time to decide whether or not we want to tie ourselves to you. People don't get hitched a couple of days after meeting, it takes time. You gotta tenderize that meat. Beat it until its nice and soft." Stiles wasn't sure where he was going with this, but it gave Scott enough time to earn his confidence back.

"Derek, we know you did your alpha thing to get us here, but it's not happening."

Scott and Stiles could tell Derek was beginning to slip out of his stoic facade. Not only was he frowning, he almost seemed offended. "I saved both of your lives. I think that makes up for the lost time and warrants a pledge of loyalty."

Stiles scoffed, but immediately regretted it once Derek took an intimidating step towards him. "Well, for all we know  _you_  attacked us and made everything up thus far. It's not like we remember that night." Scott nodded, agreeing with Stiles.

Derek took a moment to think everything over. This wasn't turning out like he planned. Still frowning at the boys, he spoke. "Leave."

"You aren't gonna act butt hurt over this are you?" Stiles asked, taking a step toward Derek, he didn't know what he was going to accomplish, but it felt appropriate. While Scott did just the opposite, taking a step back.

Derek growled at the two, going after them. Scott and Stiles bolted. They had no idea where they were or where they were going, but the last thing they wanted was for Derek to catch up to them. Scott glanced back, wanting to gage just what kind of chance they had out running Derek.

"Holy shit," Scott said as he ran farther ahead of Stiles. Stiles pushed himself to catch up, but it wasn't an easy task. Somehow Scott managed to be faster and more agile then him. He first noticed it when Scott caught that rubber lacrosse ball the other day and now he was easily able to outrun Derek. Part of Stiles wanted to say it wasn't fair, but all things considered, Scott deserved it more than he did.

Scott's childhood had been unbearable. He couldn't play with other kids, and lived in fear of asthma attacks and winding up in the hospital. All the horror stories his mother told him certainly didn't help. Scott had became a well known pity story in their youth, people knew him as that kid they had to look out for. At any moment he could collapse into a coughing fit or stop breathing all together. Anytime Scott visited friends, Stiles included, his mother passed out a list of signs to look out for and recommended safe activities for the kids to play. Like cards or stargazing from inside the house.

Scott's enhanced werewolf abilities made up for lost time and then some.

The two reached the road after a good ten minute run. They hadn't actually heard Derek for a while, but they didn't want to take any chances. They walked carefully along the road, not willing to get to close too any trees. They feared that Derek might be lurking nearby, waiting to snatch them up when they least suspected it.

"Did you see what happened to Derek?" Scott asked, airing himself with his t-shirt. The late October air wasn't enough to cool them off.

"No." Stiles said, breathing slightly harder than he thought he would.

"He was changing into a wolf. I mean a full on wolf, with fur and huge paws. I can't believe he didn't catch us. He was big enough to rip our heads off."

Stiles turned to Scott, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Maybe he was only trying to scare us?"

"Derek doesn't need to shift into a full wolf to freak me out." Scott said. Stiles nodded, agreeing with him full heartedly. "Do you think we can do that?"

"Full wolf? No, probably not. That sounds like the kind of thing only an alpha could do." Stiles ran his hand over his head, taking a beat before talking again. "I don't want to pledge anything to anyone, especially not in some kind of creepy werewolf ritual."

"Me neither." Scott said as they continued on the road. "We should try to stay away from Derek for a while."

"Alright, so if he summons us out again, we'll ignore it." Stiles said, though he wasn't quite as sure. "You know, the fact that he was summoning us makes me feel a lot better. All day I kept thinking about Derek non-stop. It was freaky, but at least it makes sense now."

"I thought about Derek today too. But I didn't think anything of it."

"Swear to God, I couldn't get him out of my head. It was like I had a tape on repeat saying his name over and over again. It was irritating."

"Are you sure it isn't some kind of sexual thing again?" Scott asked, carefully watching Stiles, so as not to offend him. It didn't work. "Derek's a good looking guy. I wouldn't blame you. There were rumors that he was.. you know."

Stiles groaned, making Scott chuckle a bit. "One time, and you'll never let it go."

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you. Like always." Stiles knew that was true. When his mom died Scott was the only person who acted genuinely concerned about his well being. Stiles experienced chronic panic attacks back then and Scott always stayed by his side, trying to soothe him.

The particular memory that stuck in Stiles' mind was from middle school. When they were 13, Scott ran out of class with Stiles to help him cope with an episode. That moment solidified their relationship, but that didn't stop Stiles from getting annoyed with Scott, a lot.

"I'm into the tiny strawberry blonde type, not the tall mysterious brooding guys. Besides, we're going to ignore Derek from now on." Scott could easily hear Stiles' annoyance, he regretted having said anything at all, but he had to ask.

"Yeah, totally. As far as I'm concerned, Derek is just some creepy guy who hangs out in the woods for hours on end." Scott said as they'd finally reached the residential district. "If he comes looking for us, we'll run."

" _Run_?" Stiles didn't want to be so cowardly.

"We could hide." That was even worse, but Stiles supposed he couldn't have everything he wanted.

"Well, run it is. But now I'm kind of curious about that pledging thing. How exactly would we do it? If we were ever so inclined, though we aren't." Stiles pictured running around the woods, climbing trees and tossing down bird eggs.

"It's probably something weird, like bleeding into a cup." Scott said shuddering at the thought as the approached his block, he got queasy around blood. Something he'd discovered when he went to work with his mom once. Stiles still had another half mile or so to go before he got to his house. "I'll see you at school, alright."

"Are you still going through with the Allison thing tomorrow?" Stiles asked, his mind racing over all the stuff to talk about before he left.

Scott sheepishly smiled. "Yeah. I'm still gonna do it."

The two parted ways. Stiles wasn't sure how he felt about everything going on. Derek was their best bet on getting through this werewolf stuff, yet they planned to avoid him. Honestly, Stiles kind of liked Derek, strange as he was. He thought that maybe, one day, Derek could become the kind of guy he could look up to. Then, to make matters worse, he was starting to get a weird feeling about Allison, and Scott was still planning on pursuing her and eventually including her in their little group.

When Stiles reached his house, he checked the garage. His father still wasn't home. He felt a little better about not having to sneak in, but he hated when his father stayed at work so late.

Stiles went up to his bedroom. He laid down on his bed and put his arm over his eyes.


	5. Part 5

PART FIVE

Scott hurried down the hallway with one too many books in his hands. As he rounded the corner, headed to English class, he collided with Allison. The both of them fell to the floor, locked eyes, and began laughing.

"I am so sorry, Scott." Allison said, a deep red blush developed over her face. She nervously looked up and down the hall. She heard other students in the hallway comment on her and Scott's clumsiness. She found it was embarrassing, but that was abated by the fact it was Scott. Regardless of what others were saying, he had that same warm smile on his face when he looked at her. Allison wouldn't have chosen anyone else to accidentally smash into.

"No. Don't be sorry, it was my fault. I was walking too fast and not paying attention." Scott said picking up her books while she picked up his. Allison giggled at his response.

"Honestly I could say the same thing Scott. So I guess it's both of our faults?" She held his schoolbooks close to her chest as he held on to hers.

"Actually, I kind of like blaming you for this. Maybe this was your fault." Allison smiled at Scott's confidence and they both laughed at his little quip.

Allison and Scott exchanged belongings for their own. Allison was ready to return on her path to class, but decided against it and continued talking to Scott. "I never did apologize for ditching you a couple of days ago. I'm sorry. I know I should explain, but it's really complicated." she stared down at the messy hallway floor scratching her head, then adjusting her hair.

"Don't even worry about it, you don't have to explain anything. I know how it is, things come up and you have to handle it." Scott smiled reassuringly at her. He felt a flash of the anger and jealousy that had consumed him only two days before, but being with Allison made the feelings go away. He could talk to her like a normal person and he noticed her visible relief at his statement.

"I am so glad you understand, because I really want to hang out again. I have to make up for flaking out on you."

"Are you going to Jackson's party on Saturday?"

"No. I mean I would, but I wasn't invited. Jackson and I aren't exactly friends." Allison paused a moment before speaking again. She and Scott began walking down the hallway towards her class. "Maybe I'll crash?"

"Or, you could come with me. For some reason Lydia Martin convinced Jackson to invite Stiles and me to his party. I'm sure I could bring a guest, and it would be pretty awesome to know someone there besides Stiles." Scott said, waiting for her reply. "Unless you don't want to."

"I do, but I kind of hoped our first date wouldn't be at a party." Allison said, smiling at Scott. His mouth was dropping open, but he caught himself. "Maybe somewhere more quiet?"

"First date? Seriously?" Scott asked, even with his heightened hearing, he wasn't sure he'd heard Allison correctly. Allison nodded, carefully watching him as they strolled down the hall. "W-we could go out tonight. If you're not busy or have any plans."

"Okay." Allison stopped in front of her classroom. "Come to my house around six and we can go out to eat."

Allison pulled a notebook out of her bag and ripped out a small piece of paper. She handed it to Scott along with a pen. "Just give me your number and I'll text you my address." Scott did as she said. "I know this really nice place downtown. My dad and I went last week. The food is amazing."

Scott couldn't believe this was happening. "Okay." He handed her the piece of paper back.

"Then I'll see you tonight." Allison said, pocketing the phone number and slipping into her class. Scott walked away feeling the most intense euphoria of his life. He had to tell Stiles.

·

Stiles was already seated in their English class when Scott ran into the room and plumped down beside him. Stiles took note of the elated look on Scott's face, but didn't feel like asking. Since the night before, he'd been feeling a little bummed out. He was starting to think Derek's bite had somehow passed on his perpetually woebegone demeanor.

Scott stared at Stiles, obviously waiting on him to bring up Allison and his plan to ask her out. He eventually gave in.

"So, did it work?" Stiles asked, pulling a notebook out of his backpack. Scott nodded.

"She wants to go out tonight and then to Jackson's party tomorrow." Scott could hardly control himself, and he had the strange urge to ditch class and run into the woods; it worsened once the bell rang and their teacher started talking. Scott forced himself to stay, sitting on the edge of his seat. "I can't believe it worked."

Stiles shook his head. "Who knew that you only had to knock her books away to get her attention?"

"Tonight we're going to some restaurant she likes."

Stiles didn't want to be the bad friend, but he didn't want to hear about this, he was too preoccupied with his intense fatigue. Yeah, he was happy for Scott, but Stiles knew if the situation were switched, he wouldn't have forgiven Allison so easily.

"Well, I hope you have a good time tonight." Stiles said, trying to sound supportive, not that Scott could tell he was faking it. Scott was lost in his thoughts of Allison's dreamy brown eyes. Stiles mentally gagged at the idea.

·

When Allison texted Scott her address, he hadn't known she lived in such an upscale neighborhood. He felt self-conscious driving the 1994 Corolla he borrowed from his mother. Never the less, he walked up to her front door with the utmost confidence, fixing himself up with a last minute hair check.

Before he could knock on the door, he heard Allison call to him. "Scott." She walked over from the side of her house. "Hey, I'm cleaning in the garage right now." She grabbed his hand and led him to a side door.

The Argent's garage was devoid of cars, though there were plenty of other things occupying the room, like unpacked boxes and home maintenance products, but most noticeable, a metal shed along the wall.

"What's in there?" Scott asked pointing to the metallic door with the shiny crystal handle. Allison walked over to the door timidly smiling.

"Just your run of the mill mercenary." She opened the door and laughed. Scott had never seen so many guns in a small confined space before. Allison noticed his uncomfortable expression and closed the door. "Sorry, I shouldn't have shown you that."

"It's fine." Scott said, his voice cracking a bit near the end. He'd only ever seen one gun up close. Seeing a shed full of them kind of freaked him out.

"My dad sells arms to the police. We're not some kind of gun crazy family preparing for a nuclear war or anything." Allison said, holding her hands together. She'd lost all of her previous confidence. At this point, she couldn't even look Scott in the eye.

Scott grabbed one of her hands and smiled at her. He wanted nothing more than to console her insecurity. "Even if you were from some gun crazy family, I'd still like you." Allison smiled back and chastely kissed Scott on the cheek.

"You are very sweet, Scott McCall, and I find myself liking you more and more everyday." Allison tightly held on to his hand. After she locked up the garage, they walked out to Scott's car.

·

Stiles went home to an empty house. His father was still at the station, probably working on the mysterious monster sighting. After Stiles finished his homework, he laid back on his bed staring at the clock.

He knew Scott was on his date with Allison. Probably having a good time and getting some. Stiles rested his arm over his eyes. He hated feeling resentful towards Scott, but he did. He hated to admit it, but a part of him always did.

Over the course of high school, they'd become losers. They were ignored and mocked, but they were together. When they suffered, it was together. It was great and all, but Stiles still felt like he was always getting the short end of the stick. Things always found a way to work out for Scott.

Stiles stayed in his position until he heard a loud pounding at the front door. He wasn't sure who would visit him this late at night. It couldn't be Scott. Scott would call ahead of time or use the spare key taped beneath the windowsill. Stiles sauntered downstairs. Apart from his bedroom, all the lights in the house were turned off, Stiles wasn't sure how anyone even knew he was home. He contemplated whether or not to answer the door.

When he reached the door, he got a staggering feeling. He didn't want to see what was on the other side. Stiles' gut clenched and his body ached with crippling fear. He felt like a wave of cold air had brushed past him. Whatever was on the other side of this door was going to tear him apart piece by piece. Stiles felt death put its icky hands on his arms, pulling him closer. There was a second knock and Stiles could suddenly control himself. The fear was still within, but on a subconscious level. It was deep, but not deep enough to manifest itself without his knowledge. Stiles finally opened the door, but to an empty porch. Only moonlight shined through the doorway.

Stiles didn't know if he should feel relieved or more worried. There really was somebody knocking at the door, right? He hadn't imagined it. No. Stiles had to believe he imagined it, how could somebody knock on his door then run away?

Realization struck Stiles like a bolt of lightning. Halloween was only a week away. Of course, it all seemed so silly now. Stiles exhaled a relieved breath and jogged back upstairs. Every year kids dared each other to ding-dong-ditch the sheriff's house. Hell, even Stiles did it one year. It was an innocent prank.

Stiles returned to his room, but stopped at the door. He didn't remember turning his lights off. Stiles knew for a fact he didn't flip the switch when he left the room. Now his house was filled with complete darkness. Stiles felt around the wall, searching for the light switch. He knew precisely where it was located, but his hands shook too much to accomplish even the simplest task. Then the anger hit. Stiles could feel the white searing rage within rise to his exterior. He wanted to punch his wall, or himself. Whichever would hurt more.

He saw Derek in his bedroom once he flicked the light switch. Derek stood glaring and menacing. He was undoubtedly the source of the animosity Stiles felt floating in the air. Stiles' brain told him to run, but his feet didn't listen, then his mouth took it's own route.

"Uh, hey, Derek. What are you doing here? In my house?" Stiles wasn't quite sure what to say, or where he was going with this. Everything at this point sounded like blabbering to him. Derek didn't respond. "You're not going to hit me are you? 'Cause I'm sorry about last night. Scott and I didn't mean to offend you in any way. You're a great alpha, the best I've ever had."

Derek glared at Stiles before speaking. "I thought Scott would be here with you."

"We aren't attached at the hip. We have separate lives." Stiles spoke, sounding more rigid than he intended.

"Yours involves you sitting at home, alone." Derek said, spouting an undeniable truth. Stiles knew that, but it didn't stop his ego from bruising.

"Aw, come on. That's not nice."

Derek ignored him. "I'm only here to warn you. The full moon is coming."

Stiles gave an audible gasp. "Do we turn into full wolves like you did the other day, but only on the full moon?"

Derek sat on Stiles' bed, just barely on the edge. It was a sight Stiles never thought he'd see. He'd have to mention it to Scott. "The full moon will make you lose control of yourself. You'll be at your physical peak, but you'll shift and try to kill."

"I've already felt that." Stiles said, shifting around, walking into his room. Eventually leaning against the doorframe.

Derek looked up at Stiles. Stiles could actually feel the worry emanating from him. It felt like the chilled air from early was brushing past him again. "It'll be a lot worse Stiles. I need you and Scott to come with me Sunday night. If the pack is together you'll have a better chance of staying clear of any humans."

Stiles knew this 'avoid Derek plan' wouldn't work. He and Scott needed Derek. Stiles was on board, but Scott would be another story. "Alright. Have you told Scott about the full moon situation yet?"

"No. I thought he'd be here with you." Derek looked distressed now, and it was killing Stiles. Derek was like a the hurt little puppy on the side of the road, and yes, the thought disturbed him.

Stiles bowed his head, running his hands over his hair. Scott was going to kill him for this. "Scott's on a date. I don't know where, but some restaurant downtown." Derek seemed to perk up. " _Please_  don't tell him I told you."

Derek stood up and walked to Stiles. He quickly patted him on the back. "I'll be able to find him." Stiles felt Derek's relief when he touched his back.

"You're not still mad, right?" Stiles asked, looking carefully at Derek. "About the other night."

"No. I was never mad, I was frustrated."

"Oh."

Derek watched Stiles, carefully examining him. "You already knew that, why did you ask?"

Stiles was slightly taken aback. "Why would you say that?"

"When I bit you, I could tell you'd be empathetic. You can feel other people's emotions, almost like they were your own."

"So that's why I've been riding this emotional rollercoaster this past week. It's a werewolf thing."

Derek nodded. Stiles looked off until a thought popped into his head.

"Uh, Derek, if you don't mind me asking, how did you get into my room?" Derek looked back to Stiles bedroom window. Stiles couldn't believe it. He ran over to the window to check the lock. "You could always knock. If I know you're there, I'll let you in…"

"I did."

"Yeah, then you pulled your Batman-esque disappearing act. You could've waited. I opened the door for you."

Derek wrote him off. "My way was faster." When Stiles thought Derek was going to climb through his window again, he directed him downstairs to the front door.

Once Derek left, Stiles laid back on his bed, curious as to how Derek knew where he lived. The more Stiles thought about him, the more Derek's whole mysterious persona bothered him. It was all he could ever think about.

·

Allison and Scott walked the streets of downtown Beacon Hills. They admired the more artsy statues scattered throughout the central after their dinner.

"I always wanted to be an artist. To make something out of nothing, create masterpieces where no one expects." Allison said dreamily. She and Scott held hands as they walked down the street.

"My dad used to be an artist. He actually has some sculptures displayed around town." Scott said.

"That's amazing. I wish I could do that, but I'm terrible at that kind of stuff... I'll probably end up taking over the family business. What about you Scott, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know." Scott said. "I'd never given it much thought."

"Have you applied for colleges yet?" Allison asked, stopping their pace. Scott knew a lecture was coming. He'd already dealt with one from his mom on the very same subject last week. Scott was beginning to think everyone was more concerned about his future than he was.

"No."

"There's still time. A lot of schools have late enrollment, you just have to pay a little more."

Scott leaned against the wall of some pizza shop as he listened to Allison. He knew, that just like his mother, she had only the best intentions in mind. "My grades are pretty bad, though." Scott said, wanting to finish their walk.

"How bad?" Scott hated where this conversation was going. They were going to end their first date talking about life after high school and the future. Scott wasn't sure whether he should fess up, and tell Allison just how bad of a student he was, or play it off as some minor screw up during his freshman year.

"It's not that bad. Freshman year I slacked off and it brought my entire GPA down." Scott wished that were the truth. He wished he didn't have to lie about almost flunking out every year and carrying a 1.86 average into his senior year.

"Colleges love to see improvements over high school. Or maybe a specialty school? Do you know what you want to do professionally?" Allison asked, dropping Scott's hand and crossing her arms. This somehow went from a little chat to a full blown investigation. Scott prayed for anything to stop this conversation.

"Scott!" Scott found himself filled with unbridled joy, only for it to be replaced by a sudden jolt of fear. Derek Hale was calling him from down the road. Derek Hale had somehow found him.

Allison quickly glanced back at Derek then to Scott. "Do you know him, Scott?"

"Yeah, kinda. I should probably go see what he wants." Scott took the opportunity to escape, and he joined Derek at the corner of the street. Allison watched from a relatively far distance.

Scott was sure to keep himself out of Derek's reach. Though all things considered, Scott figured that if Derek wanted to hurt him, he would have done so already. "Hey, Derek. How did you know where to find me? Was it a scent thing or an alpha thing? Or was it something entirely different?"

"Neither." Derek eyed him funnily. "I only came to warn you. Sunday is the full moon. You and Stiles should go out into the forest for safety. I'll be out there too and I'll make sure that neither of you harms anybody."

"Have you told Stiles yet?"

"Yeah."

"Cool." Scott said, awkwardly clapping his hands together. He and Derek stood together, in silence. Derek looked past Scott to see Allison.

"Who is that with you?" Derek asked. Scott thought he might approach her and immediately stepped in front of him.

"She's the girl I'm going out with. Why? Does it matter who she is?"

Derek shook his head. "No. It doesn't." He was about to depart, but he turned back around to face Scott. "You and Stiles might begin to feel out of control tomorrow, it's common for newly bitten werewolves, especially in the days leading up to the full moon."

"Okay, but I've felt fine this past couple of days." Scott said, earning a nod from Derek. "Is there anyway for me or Stiles to contact you if something happens to us?"

"I'll be able to sense it. Then I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I meant, like a phone number, or email, or something."

Derek dug a small phone out of his pocket. "I can give you my phone number."

Scott never thought he'd see the day when the almighty Derek Hale was giving him his phone number. Scott hadn't known Derek from school, they never interacted, but he recalled seeing him on campus. Derek and his sister always gave off a detached vibe, like they didn't belong in Beacon Hills. Derek sequestered himself from the student body, and now Scott felt like he knew why. Derek had to have been a werewolf in high school as well, maybe even his sister too.

Once Scott put Derek into his contacts he asked the question that had suddenly popped into his mind. "Derek, were turned into a werewolf in high school too?"

"I've always been a werewolf, I was born like this." Derek still had on that emotionless look that he wore so well.

"Your sister too?" Now Scott had cracked a bit of Derek's shell. His face hardened into a glare, but relaxed too quickly, almost as if Derek had to remind himself to go easy on Scott.

"Yes. We were both born like this."

"What happened to her?" Scott knew he was over stepping his boundaries, but he wanted to know how far he could go. How far Derek would let him go. "She didn't kill herself, did she?"

"You have a lot questions Scott. Sometimes it's best to let them go and not ask at all." With that Derek walked off.

Scott returned to Allison. He feared he may have left her for too long, but hoped the 'life after high school' conversation was done. Allison sat on the curb, her arms still crossed. She looked distressed.

"Scott, how do you know Derek Hale?" She asked, looking up at him.

"I don't really know him, not all that well. I've only talked to him a couple of times." Allison stood up and they began walking back to his car. The date was almost over. "Do you know Derek?"

"No, but I know he's trouble." Allison grabbed Scott's hand, giving Scott a sense of protectiveness. The feeling made him smile. "You should stay away from him. I've heard stories about him and his sister and the Hale house fire. It's unfortunate, it really is, but... Derek's sketchy. My aunt knew his sister growing up and she was trouble too."

"If you want me to stay away from him, I will." Scott said, earning a lovely smile from Allison, and later, a goodnight kiss at her front door. Putting Scott on cloud nine.


	6. Part 6

PART SIX

Jackson knew that if he hosted a party Lydia would handle the logistics. He made the plans and she followed them through. They were their own team, a well-oiled machine. So he waited until she came by his house, about seven thirty, carrying a box with the basics.

Lydia kissed Jackson on the cheek once he opened the door. She handed him the box, it was filled with cups and a variety of chips. "My cousin's coming by around nine-ish with beer and soda. That should give us enough time to set everything up. Have you moved any tables to the backyard yet?"

Jackson set the box down and looked at Lydia. Watching her navigate his house. She'd been over so many times that she had the place wired down. "Yeah, a couple, but your cousin's only bringing beer and soda? Don't you think we'll need some more variety?"

Lydia glared up at him once she reached the kitchen. "You only invited jocks. They're going to drink beer, or they'll cop out and drink soda, then pretend to be drunk. Why get anything else?"

Jackson held Lydia's hand, guiding her back to the front of the house. "You made me invite a couple of losers the other day. You know they're coming, right?"

Lydia frowned at him. "You saw the way Scott McCall caught that lacrosse ball.. thing, you should be using that kind of talent. Guys with those kind of reflexes, win championships."

" _My team_  wins championships. We don't need some socially awkward punk throwing off our balance. Not to mention, McCall has severe asthma or something like that, I remember once in middle school he almost passed out after having an attack." Jackson dropped her hand as he spoke. He felt blood rushing to his face in his anger. "I don't need him on my team."

"Your team won  _one_  championship, back in freshman year, when you  _weren't_  the team captain. There is an obvious correlation between the two. And people grow out of their aliments all the time, his asthma might have gone away years ago." Lydia ran her hand through her hair then crossed her arms. She glared at Jackson, effectively making him feel self-conscious. He hated fighting with Lydia; she always won. "And, I'm  _not_  going to spend another year dating the captain of an okay lacrosse team."

Jackson bit his lip, thinking it over. He hated when Lydia glared at him. It was like she was digging into his soul, tearing him down, one fiber of his being at a time. He gave in and followed Lydia back towards the box she initially walked in with.

"Fine." Jackson said, dragging out the word. "I'll mention it, but that's it."

Lydia smiled at him, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers. "That's all I ask." She kissed his nose and began emptying the box. Jackson ran his hands over his face. He already knew, he was Lydia's well-trained pet.

·

Stiles drove to Scott's house. Their plan was to carpool to Jackson's house, then Allison would meet Scott at the party, and Stiles would make himself disappear.

That wasn't the exact plan, but Stiles knew that was how it'd ultimately turn out. He wasn't excited for the party, but he was curious. He'd never been inside the Whittemore's house and judging by the clothes Jackson wore, his family's social status in Beacon Hills, and the fact that everyone already knew Jackson was filthy rich, Stiles figured the place had to be pretty swanky.

Stiles walked into the McCall household, inviting himself. He knew Scott and his mother never locked their front door before ten at night, if they even remembered. Stiles listened to the house, testing his abilities; he could hear Scott and his mother talking upstairs in his bedroom.

"Scott, please don't drink anything unless it's already sealed. I don't want to get a call rushing me back to the hospital because you need your stomach pumped." Stiles could imagine Ms McCall running her hand over her face as she spoke, just like Scott would. "I want you to have fun, but not too much."

Stiles chuckled to himself. Ms McCall was unaware that Scott stopped taking his medication and using his inhaler since they'd gotten the bite. Neither of them had told their parents what was going on. Stiles knew it was probably harder on Scott, he saw his mother more often than Stiles saw his father.

"Mom, I'll be fine. I've been to parties before." Scott said. Stiles could hear him step towards his mother and hug her lightly. Truthfully, Scott and Stiles had only been to  _one_  party, during their sophomore year. There wasn't any booze, the girl's parents hovered over everyone, and nobody stayed past nine.

Stiles ran upstairs to greet the family. "Hey Ms McCall, Scott. Thought I'd let you two know I was downstairs." He leaned against the doorframe smiling.

Scott's mom raised her eyebrows at Stiles, then to Scott. "You gotta stop telling him its okay to sneak in all the time."

Scott laughed. "As if he'd listen." Scott kissed his mothers cheek. "Alright, I'll see you when I get home."

Scott's mom nodded, and watched the two boys leave her house. She still kept her arms crossed. Stiles felt her worry as they left; it caused a prickly chill down his back.

He omitted the feeling and laughed once they reached his jeep, he thought about what he was going to say. "Did your mom have a hard time believing we were invited to Jackson's party?"

Scott laughed with him. "Yeah, she did. I'm pretty sure she thought I was planning on running away or something. I don't know, but it took awhile to convince her. What about your dad?"

Stiles shook his head. "He doesn't know. I've barely seen him lately. He's been so busy with work stuff, there was some dead body found a couple of miles out of town. I mean, I did mention the party this morning, during breakfast, but he had to run out."

Scott nodded. "That's probably for the best. If he knew he knew you were going to Jackson's house he'd probably put an APB out on you."

"Maybe, or he'd hunt me down himself." Stiles didn't think his father trusted anyone else to deal with him.

Scott laughed. "Yeah, I could see him doing that."

·

The party was uneventful to say the least. The music was all right, but Scott and Stiles didn't know half of the people there, and the ones they did know choose to ignore them. Even Lydia, the reason they were invited, didn't bother to wave or say hi. She was busy mingling with everybody else.

The two boys hung around Jackson's living room. There wasn't a television, but there was a mini bar. Some kid from the lacrosse team, Scott was sure his name was Greenberg, managed to break the lock and get into Jackson's parent's stash.

"I don't think I can get drunk..." Stiles said, finishing off his third can of beer, he'd already had four shots of whiskey and two wine coolers. Before the bite, Stiles could only handle  _maybe_  two shots before falling over. "Maybe a little tipsy, but not drunk."

Scott listened to his friend try to not slur his words. He was cutting it close, much too close to not be considered buzzed. Scott had opted out of drinking. He didn't want Allison to see him drunk. "Stiles, you might want to cut back on the drinks. You're drunk enough to call yourself 'tipsy' and besides, Jackson's gonna be pissed when he finds out people were going through his parent's stuff. You have to act sober enough to say you didn't take anything."

The room was cleared when Scott and Stiles decided to sit on the sofa. People were heading outside to dance and socialize in Jackson's backyard. Scott and Stiles could have joined then, but they knew they wouldn't enjoy themselves. For a while they really thought being a werewolf would automatically put them on the top layer of the social food chain. That obviously wasn't the case. Sure, people weren't scoffing at them of mocking then for the sake of being mean anymore, but they wanted a little more than this. Maybe if people knew what they were, but they would never tell. Though, whenever a pretty girl walked by she'd flirtatiously smile at them before putting out her chest a bit and slowly walking away. They appreciated that.

After a while Stiles' buzz wore off and he slumped against the annoyingly comfortable sofa. Secretly he'd hoped Jackson would have stiff, showroom furniture. Stiles had run off to the bathroom, but quickly came back and plumped back on the sofa besides Scott. "Do you think this werewolf thing stops us from getting wasted? I felt freakin' awesome a minute ago, now I'm just bored."

Scott shrugged then said, "We heal faster, so our livers should pass the alcohol out of blood faster, right?" Stiles lifted his hands, lazily shrugging. "We can ask Derek later."

Stiles nodded, then turned to face Scott. "Did he tell you about the full moon, tomorrow?"

"Yeah, while I was with Allison." Stiles interest was peaked and he sat up. He couldn't believe that Derek would tell Scott vital werewolf stuff in front of Allison.

"He told you while Allison was still there?"

"No, I went off to talk to him. He also gave me his phone number, in case we need to call him or if something goes wrong." Scott said, running his hand over his face, trying to wipe away his exhaustion. It was already 10:30 and Allison still hadn't texted him yet. Scott was beginning to feel like this party turn into a bust.

Scott and Allison hadn't spoken since last night. Scott couldn't shake the idea that Allison finally realized she was too good for Scott. The thought kept coming back to Scott the longer he sat around waiting.

While Stiles couldn't get over the fact that Derek had a cell phone, but then, he'd never given it much thought. He silently pondered the possibilities. Scott handed Stiles his phone so he could get the number. He had an expectant look on his face, like he knew Stiles would want the number. Which he did, but not for the reasons he was sure Scott assumed he wanted the number. Not  _those_  reasons. Stiles was not the slightest bit interested in  _those_  reasons. He was almost sure of it.

Stiles tossed the phone back when he was done, frowning at Scott's pleased expression.

"There you are McCall." Jackson said, walking into the room with three other guys from the lacrosse team.

Stiles felt a painful rush of hatred course over him, like someone was hitting his bare bones. He was positive it was all stemmed from Jackson and his cronies. There also seemed to be a mix of envy and spite. It gave him a weird humid feel on his skin.

"Hey Jackson." Scott said, trying to be civil, but Stiles suspected his mind had jumped back on the Allison train. He wasn't really all there.

"Nice party you got going here." Stiles added in, waving to the guys behind Jackson. They didn't respond back. Stiles wasn't afraid of the guys, he and Scott could take them easily, but he was fascinated by the control Jackson had over them.

Jackson scowled at them. "I finally allow you two assholes to come to one of my parties and all you do is steal from my parent's mini bar. Nice." Jackson said, picking up a glass bottle by his foot and placing it in a trash bin. Earlier, other kids that  _were not_  Scott and Stiles had tossed it to the floor along with a dozen other cans. Jackson sighed, giving the impression he was forcing himself to stay in the same room as them. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. The point is, what you did the other day was impressive McCall, or at least it was enough to impress my Lydia, and.. I think you should seriously consider joining the lacrosse team."

"Didn't try outs finish, like a month ago? How would that be fair to anyone else?" Scott asked. Stiles was surprised by how unfazed Scott acted. As long as they'd known each other, Scott had always wanted to be an athlete. If it hadn't been for his severe asthma, Scott would have tried out for every school sport, literally. He expressed an interest in every activity he and Stiles ever talked about. Stiles half expected Scott to jump up and down, cheering with excitement.

"He's the team captain. I'm sure Jackson can pull a couple of strings." Said one of the guys standing behind Jackson. The other two nodded in agreement while Jackson stood, scratching his head. He obviously didn't want to do this. He had to have been put up to this. Stiles wasn't sure who was behind this, but he figured it was probably why Jackson invited them.

Scott thought about it for a moment. "Okay, I'll join the team, but only if you let Stiles join too."

Stiles turned and stared wide eyed at Scott. He didn't want to play lacrosse. He didn't want to do anything that would put him in the same category as Jackson Whittemore, parties being the only exception. Sure, all the lacrosse guys were automatically popular and Stiles liked the idea of being invited to more parties, but not enough to join a sports team.

Jackson glared down at the two seated on his sofa. They were in his house yet Scott was giving him orders, like he thought joining the team was negotiable "You're joking, right?" He gave Scott every opportunity to reply before going on. "Can he even play?"

"Come on McCall," One of the other guys said. "Can't you leave your little boyfriend out of this? You should be thankful you're getting this free pass."

Scott glared back at Jackson and the other guys. "It's both of us, or nothing." Scott said, holding his ground. Stiles wanted to add in a little comment like 'just kidding' or 'he didn't mean it,' but he didn't want to ruin Scott's thunder.

"Then I'll pass." Jackson said. Stiles felt an even stronger wave hit him. The hatred in the room was suffocating, like a ton of iron was pushing down on his body.

Eventually Jackson and the guys left, leaving Stiles with only a sense of intense, fixated anger. He looked at Scott, realizing he was the source.

"I hate them Stiles. They're all assholes that get what ever they want. They think that everyone will do whatever they say, just because they said it. No. No, they think people will do whatever they say because  _Jackson_  said it. Like Jackson has this power over everyone."

Stiles wanted to say that Jackson did have some kind of power over people, that's what made him Jackson, but Scott was on the verge of losing control. His eyes glinted like he was about to shift again. "Hey, buddy, relax. I hate Jackson too. I really, really hate him, but you can't let it get to you."

"Scott…" Scott and Stiles heard Allison's voice, though it was just barely a whisper. She was outside the house, and Scott's phone began ringing. He picked up immediately. "Hey, Scott I'm outside."

Somehow Scott had regained complete control of himself and stood up. "I'll be right there." Scott left with a grin on his face and it was the last Stiles saw of him that night.

Not that he didn't wait, Stiles sat on the sofa for a few minutes before fully accepting the fact he had been ditched for a pair boobs. It was difficult at first, but he figured if given the opportunity to spend some alone time with Lydia, he'd probably do the same. Maybe.

Stiles left Jackson's house once he got overwhelmingly bored. He walked down to the street, he'd parked his jeep a minute or two from the party. Stiles hadn't noticed before, but Jackson lived across from Isaac Lahey. Odd, considering the Laheys were gravediggers. He wouldn't have assumed they could afford to live in such a prestigious neighborhood, but then again, their house was a dump. Now that he thought about it, he had seen Isaac at Jackson's house. Stiles had figured he'd crashed the party out of boredom. He doubted that Isaac and Jackson were friends.

Stiles kept walking. He really didn't care much for Isaac, he was a just as awkward as him and Scott, if not more so, and he took things much too seriously. Junior year he and Stiles worked on an English paper together, but Isaac bailed at the last minute. He claimed that working with Stiles would ruin his artistic integrity, or something like that. Stiles wasn't really sure why Isaac backed out, but he guessed it had to do with that poem. Somehow everything came back to the stupid piece of paper.

It was sophomore year and Stiles had been under the impression he was submitting his work with complete anonymity. Had he known the truth, he never would have turned it in.

Not only that, his teacher submitted the poem to some literary magazine. Who would have known Stiles would win the contest? Then be forced to read it to his class. Now he faced constant humiliation, almost always specifically from Jackson.

Stiles climbed into his jeep and began driving. He wasn't sure where he was going, but as long as it was away from anything to do with the party, he was good.

·

Stiles found himself gravitating towards the woods. He'd catch himself and turn around, but he couldn't defy the inevitable. Stiles parked along the side of the road and pulled out a flashlight from his glove compartment, though he didn't need it. The moon was bright. Stiles could see small frogs hopping towards the creek and birds sneaking in their last flight before resting for the night.

He walked towards the stream of water, following the sounds. He wanted to stand on the small bridge and look over the edge. He wanted to feel the cool air bounce off the surface of the water and see the moon and himself in the reflection. The image was so clear in his mind. Maybe that was why he came?

Stiles followed the man made path, but got a whiff of alcohol and stopped in his tracks. Stiles' heart began to beat a little faster as he smelt his shirt. The odor wasn't coming from him. Someone else was out there. Stiles carefully listened for a voice. He walked closer to the source of the smell, but he couldn't hear anything. As hard as he tried, he couldn't get his heightened sense to work. For a moment, Stiles thought it might be Derek, maybe. He hoped it wasn't Derek, but it could have been. For all Stiles knew, Derek liked to sneak off to the woods and drink to his heart's content.

Stiles decided to just walk up to the bridge and see who was there. He carefully approached the platform, but stopped once he saw who was standing there.

"Mr. Harris?" Stiles hadn't meant to say his name out loud, but his mind hadn't told his mouth that yet.

His teacher turned around, or tried to. He was obviously very intoxicated and held on to the railing for some kind of stability. "Stilinski? What are you doing here? You should be home." Harris faced back out, looking over the bridge. "Don't you have a bedtime, or something?"

Stiles frowned. "I'm 17.

"And I'm 62 years old.." Harris said, swinging his arm around like a pirate. His face looked dejected before he deadpanned, "Go home Stilinski."

He rested his body on the railing, ignoring Stiles.

Stiles walked over to Mr. Harris. "If anyone should be going home, it's the guy who's doubling his age." Stiles tried to gently guide Harris off the bridge, but he refused to budge.

"It's students like you that make me feel this way, Stilinski. You don't listen; you don't respect authority. Your dad's the sheriff for God's sake." Harris paused, staring at Stiles, yet taking a step closer to the bridge's railing. "Why can't you just blend in like all the other kids?" Harris started to climb over the edge, dropping his glasses into the water.

"Woah! What are you doing?" Stiles grabbed Mr. Harris before he fell off the bridge. He used his strength to easily pull him off the railing and on to the floor of the structure.

"No. You're ruining it." Mr. Harris looked so pitiful, staring up at Stiles.

"Ruining what?"

"I was going to end it, end all of it tonight." Harris dropped his face into his hands. "Why can't you just let me die?"

Stiles folded his arms, looking down at his teacher. "You were going to kill yourself, in three inches of water? We're barely a foot off the ground, you'd be lucky if you sprained your ankle."

He watched Harris silently weep for a moment before it became completely unbearable.

Stiles pulled Harris up to his feet. "Go home Mr. Harris."

Harris wrapped his arms around Stiles, throwing all his body weight on him at once. He felt lips slowly brush against his neck and a cool hand run over his cheek. "Stay with me."

Stiles pushed him off. His mind fell blank and the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight. He wasn't sure what to think, and then the thoughts hit him all at once. His chemistry teacher kissed his neck. His creepy chemistry teacher kissed him. His creepy Chemistry teacher was creepin' on him. Dear lord, his Chem teacher was a pervert. Maybe? Did he like how it felt?

It was all too weird for Stiles, but undoubtedly made him think of the term:  _ephebophilia_. Harris leaned against the railing again, completely unaware of Stiles' distress.

Stiles felt his breath hitch then rapidly increase, he was starting to panic. Anxiety was quickly consuming him. No, he couldn't have liked it. Stiles closed his eyes and involuntarily imagined the motions, as if Harris was running his lips over Stiles' neck again and again. He felt his bottom lip begin to tremble. "Why did you do that?"

"I don't know." Harris had no idea what he'd done.

Stiles ran his hands over his head, rubbing against the tips of his hair. He almost felt like he was going to shift, but he wasn't sure why. Scott was angry when he shifted, but Stiles wasn't infuriated, he felt confused. He reminded himself to breath and focus on anything else but Mr. Harris' lips. He felt his jaw begin to unhinge and his fingers swell. Now he wished it had been Derek out on the bridge.

The shift was starting, but his focus broke when Harris passed out, falling to the ground with a rather loud thump. The sound brought Stiles back to his senses. He picked Harris up and took him to his jeep.

As he drove Harris home, Stiles realized he lost control when he felt anxious or panicky. It was his trigger.

·

When Stiles got home his father was still awake, working in the kitchen. He was seated at the table, papers spread out in front of him. Stiles was sure his father hadn't heard him come in, he was too distracted. He could walk on by and his dad wouldn't ever know he'd been out past his curfew.

"Hey dad." Stiles said. He looked at the clock; it was roughly 12:30. Stiles smiled at his father; he'd rather deal with the consequences head on.

His dad barely looked up, and his glasses were pushed up alarmingly close to his eyes. "Hey, buddy."

"Are you okay?" Stiles asked, taking a couple of steps forward. His father was more distracted then usual. Any other day, he would have been on Stiles' ass for staying out too late, maybe even take away his car keys as punishment.

His father looked up at him and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. "

Stiles sat beside him, looking at the investigation notes. "Is this about the murder outside of town?" His father nodded. "But isn't that out of your jurisdiction? You shouldn't even have to worry about it."

Stiles' father put his hands on the table and stood up. He rubbed his eyes, and took a sip from the mug he'd had on the table with him. "Someone's gotta do it."

"Can't that someone do it after he's had a good night's rest?" Stiles asked, pushing away his father's mug. "And you shouldn't be drinking, you still have work tomorrow."

The sheriff set his glasses down and rubbed his eyes again. "You're right."

Stiles smirked. "Of course I am, I've been taking care of you for years, dad. I've learned a thing or two."

His father yawned. "I'm going to sleep. Would you mind putting this stuff away for me?"

"Yeah." Stiles said, surprised by his father's request, he never allowed him to handle his case notes or evidence. His father patted him on the back as he walked towards the stairs. Stiles started compiling the papers immediately, but before his father went upstairs he looked back at his son.

"Why'd you get home so late?"

Stiles shrugged, "Just, partied too hard?" His dad lifted his eyebrows, but didn't say anymore. Stiles watched him, he knew his father would never really buy that, but it was almost true.


	7. Part 7

PART SEVEN

The sun was beginning to drop below the horizon as a cold breeze blew through the woods. Only the sounds of animal life and a light clicking could be heard. The cool breeze maintained its flow, tracing along the assortment of trees.

Derek leaned against the bark of a Ponderosa Pine, his leather jacket pressed to the tree and his head leaning slightly back. He tried to focus on anything that wasn't Stiles sitting on the dirt. The task proved to be more difficult then he had first presumed.

Stiles drew Derek's attention as he nervously texted Scott. Derek watched Stiles bite at his lip as he rapidly tapped his foot against the ground. He looked like a nervous wreck, and that made Derek question himself. If he were given a second chance, would he still bite Scott and Stiles? He did find the two awfully peculiar. His gaze fell back on Stiles, the teen had started gnawing on the end of his sleeve. Derek dropped his head a bit; he knew he would. Something about Stiles struck him as endearing.

Stiles looked up at Derek, his cell phone in hand, like an extension of his arm. "Scott's not answering.. I'm sure he has his phone, he never forgets it." Something about the way Stiles spoke seemed hostile, like he was harboring some unpleasant feelings about his friend. Stiles changed his tone before speaking again. "I don't know, maybe it's on silent?"

Stiles ran his hand over his face. Derek sighed, crossing his arms at the same time. He looked towards the sunset, crepuscular light gently hitting his face. He started evaluating his options. At most he had an hour to get Scott away from the general public. That was plenty of time, but he still had Stiles to worry about. If he had to choose, he'd prefer Scott was on the loose as opposed to Stiles. Something about Stiles also struck him as weak-willed, this  _something_  made Derek watch Stiles more than Scott.

"What happens if he doesn't get here in time?" Stiles asked his eyes still dead locked on Derek.

Derek could hear the worry in Stiles' voice. His face emphasized the emotion. Derek stood up straight. He wanted to soothe Stiles. He contemplated taking a few steps toward Stiles, but decided against it. He didn't want to come off as intrusive.

"Hopefully nothing bad, but if he gets caught by hunters or if he kills someone, I don't know what I'll have to do. I don't know what the hunters will do to him." Derek lightly rubbed his hand against the back of his neck. He realized this wasn't making Stiles feel any better, but he didn't know what else to say.

Stiles frowned as he stood up, wiping off the dirt and sticks that had stuck to his jeans. "Who are these hunters? And why do they hunt werewolves? How do they even know about werewolves?" Stiles ran his hands over his face again.

Derek took notice to the other boy's strange behavior. Stiles was asking too many questions and he seemed more distressed then usual. "There are a lot of people who hunt werewolves, with a lot of different backgrounds, and they go by a lot of names. You never really know who they are. Sometimes they even drag innocent people into this. It's their way of having collateral against us. If one of us were to accidentally hurt an innocent bystander, in their eyes that gives them every right to kill us. Until the moment arises, they wait, looking for some other excuse to get us."

Stiles bit his bottom lip before speaking again. "Have you ever dealt with them?"

Derek took a moment before answering. Weighing out the possibilities. He wanted to be honest with Stiles, but he knew there was only so much that could be said before Stiles lost all respect he had for him. "No. Not  _personally_ , but they killed most of my family."

Stiles mouth fell slack. "Did they start the fire at your house three years ago?" Derek silently nodded. He kept his focus on Stiles the entire time, watching some realization dawn upon him. "My dad tried to prove it was arson for months, why didn't you step foreword and say something?"

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles. "And tell him a group of radicals murdered my family because we were a pack of werewolves living in the woods?"

Stiles tilted his head to the side, he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came put. He hadn't thought about logistics of the situation. He took a beat before speaking again. "Where did you go, after.. I heard you lived with your uncle for a while."

Derek nodded. "Yeah."

Stiles stayed silent, waiting for Derek to continue. It wasn't long before he realized Derek had no intentions of furthering their conversation. Stiles suspected he was crossing his boundaries, but he had to be sure. He was curious as to how much he could ask Derek before he told him to stop talking.

"Did you stay in California, or did you go somewhere else?"

Derek glared at Stiles. "Why do you care?" Stiles shrugged, making Derek roll his eyes, but eventually sigh. "I went to New York for a while, but I mostly stayed in California."

"Can I ask what happened to your sister?" Derek ignored Stiles. Now he'd gone too far.

The pair stayed quiet. Stiles focused on the sounds of the wilderness, he heard birds chirping and mice scurrying, and possibly a set of hooves in the distance. He tried to relax, but the sky was darkening, the moon was impending upon them, and Scott still hadn't shown up. Stiles didn't want to feel anxious, but worrying about Scott made him that way. The last thing he wanted was for Scott to get hurt or die. Then there was the incident with Mr. Harris from the night before.

Stiles then focused his attention on Derek, relieving some of his tension. He admired the way Derek stood, like he could take on the world at any given moment. Stiles found himself wanting to be more like that, or some kind of feeling close the it. He brought his arm up to mouth and began gnawing on his jacket again, that also relaxed him.

Derek couldn't stand the silence anymore. He looked back at Stiles, their eyes meeting. He had caught his undivided attention. "When did you last talk to Scott?"

"Last night. We went to Jackson Whittemore's party." Stiles said lowering his arm. The way Derek looked at Stiles made him feel like there was a pit in his gut and he was going to implode. In all honesty, Stiles wasn't sure if that was him worrying about Scott or about getting caught staring at Derek.

"Are you and Scott friends with Jackson Whittemore?"

Derek witnessed a sudden rush of blood flow to Stiles' face. Stiles frantically took a dozen steps toward Derek. "No. How would I even know Jackson Whittemore? I don't know him."

"Why would he invite you to a party if he didn't know you?" Derek didn't understand Stiles' reaction, as far as he knew it was only a simple question.

"Well, um, I know Jackson, but I don't  _know_  him. He's just this guy that I happen to go to school with." Stiles tried to play it off as nothing, but he couldn't even convince himself. "Well, everybody knows who Jackson Whittemore is. His father is the most sought after lawyer in town. So of course I know Jackson Whittemore. That's it, though."

"Okay." Derek said perfectly content with ending their conversation there.

Stiles dropped his head. He was lost in own mind again and hadn't heard Derek. "It's complicated, he kinda hates me.. And Scott too, but mostly me. I mean, if it wasn't for me, he'd probably just ignore us at school, instead of going out of his way to be a completed jerkass."

"What did you do?" Derek leaned back against the Ponderosa again, he figured he'd humor Stiles and keep the conversation going.

Stiles scoffed, "What makes you think it was something I did?"

"You already said it was."

"Right.. It was my fault, but I didn't... " Stiles began seriously contemplating whether or not he should tell Derek about the poem. He didn't want to face judgment, but he didn't want to be forever burdened by the secret either. "Near the end of my sophomore year I wrote this poem for English class, it stupid, but my teacher liked it and submitted it for some literary contest and I ended up winning. So junior year she had me read it to my class. Nobody's really let me live it down."

"What was the poem about?" Derek stood up straighter, he wasn't necessarily interested where the story was going, but by the way Stiles told the story. He made it seem so painful, like it physically hurt him to talk about it, yet his gesture remained so energetic and vibrant. Derek was also captivated by Stiles' expressions.

While Derek's reaction was surprising to say the least, Stiles hadn't expected him to actually care, he thought they were only making mindless small talk. "Well.." Stiles started having second thoughts, like he shouldn't tell Derek. He lightly shook his head and decided to go for it anyway. How much could it really hurt? "Well, it was about my—"

Stiles phone vibrated, cutting off his story. He took it as a sign. Last year he held his own private burning of the wretched paper. Now he was sure, what was dead should stay dead. He looked down at the screen of his cell phone, Scott had finally texted him back.

"Scott says he's at the bridge, he wants to know where we are." Stiles said. He looked up at Derek, relieved but slightly disappointed, a part of him had hoped Scott wouldn't show up. He liked this 'Derek and Stiles time,' it had taken his mind off of the previous night.

"Tell him we're a good mile further up north." Stiles nodded and did as he was told. Derek watched him carefully. "I'll go find him. You stay here."

"You can't leave me by myself."

"Why not?"

Stiles thought it over, he wasn't sure why Derek couldn't leave. He supposed there was no reason for him to stay. "Never mind."

Derek took off running. He listened for Scott, waiting to hear him take a breath, or step on a broken branch. Derek finally heard an unusual amount of leaves crunch and immediately ran in that direction. Scott was indeed making his way toward Stiles' current location.

"Scott." Scott jumped a little at the sound of Derek's voice. He hadn't expected someone to find him.

"Hey, Derek. Where's Stiles?" Scott asked, nervously looking around.

"He's this way." Derek started walking back. Scott reluctantly followed. He remembered what Allison had said about him, but he had to listen to his alpha.

·

The sun was gone, but the moon had only risen so far into the sky. The trio looked up admiring its path.

"I think I feel it" Stiles said, holding his hand to his chest. He felt his heartbeat increase. Maybe it was his ADHD, but he felt like running for pure sake of running. His legs ached with restlessness. He had to hold himself back from panting. The other two looked at him. "I am supposed to feel something, right?"

Derek nodded. The moon shone brightly, illuminating a good portion of the woods. Stiles could easily see Derek's silent response. "You'll feel powerful, but you'll feel like your body needs to start moving and you can't stop yourself."

It was Scott's turn to nod. He ran his hands over his head, messing up his hair, a distressed look in his eyes. Derek felt a tinge of pain in his chest just looking at Scott. He knew how waiting for the moon felt. Stiles took a few steps closer and rested his hand on Scott's arm, hoping to relieve some of his tension, but it only seemed to make his worse.

The two teens watched Derek longingly; they waited for instructions or some kind of help. They didn't want to feel this way anymore. Derek could hear their breaths, frantic and shallow. He looked up at the sky one last time. He'd never been good at school, but atmospheric climate concepts had been an easy learn. Not that it mattered, but if he had to guess, he'd say the moon light was as close to hitting the Earth at 90 degrees as it was going to get without driving the pack stark raving mad.

"Go." That was all Derek had to say. The boys ran in two separate directions, with no real intent, they only listened to their instincts. The primitive, animalistic feeling they'd tried so hard to contain.

Stiles ran until his legs gave out and he fell to his knees. The unbearable pressure in his jaw came back and his hands pulsated. The feeling he'd experienced only a few days before had come back, but this time ten fold. He could hear himself yelping and crying out for help, but nobody came. He could hear Scott yelling for the same, but it was of little consequence to him.

Derek stood between the two. He was acutely aware of the fact they had no idea how close they were to each other, he found it better this way. He didn't believe relying on others would ease the pain. No, quite the opposite. Derek refused to rely on others, and he was going to ensure his pack did the same.

Once the transformation was complete, Scott and Stiles were gone; monsters, taking their form, had replaced them. Derek let them to roam the woods, free to a certain extent. He watched them swiftly scamper around and was reminded him of his first full moon.

From a young age, Derek had gone out with his family on the full moons, thinking it would prepare him for what was to come. It didn't. His transformation was the most painful moment of his life. That was including the night a majority of his family had died. Nothing could compare to having his body broken and put back together at the tender age of 12.

From the look on their faces, Scott and Stiles would probably agree, if they even remembered the night. Derek had met a few bitten wolves who couldn't remember their first full moon. It was more common than people liked to admit.

After an hour or so, Derek began to find the two boys a bit boring. Once they'd expended their initial energy, they mostly wandered around smelling trees and staring into the deep parts of the creek, trying to fish out small water creatures. Every once and a while Derek had to call them back if they went out of his sight, but that was about all. It was quite odd, considering that they hadn't pledged their loyalty to him, they were relatively well behaved and obedient. Derek almost found himself wishing they would put up a bigger fight.

The two boys were very unusual.

Derek held off shifting as long as he could, but he felt himself give in around midnight or so. It wasn't as if he needed to shift like the two boys did, but shifting had become habit for him. He hadn't missed a full moon since he'd turned 17. It had been a great distraction from his family and all the unfortunate events that seemed to plague him.

He ran with the boys until their energy had completely run out. They eventually found a nice resting spot by the creek, a good ten miles from the outskirts of town. Together the three of them slept on the ground, peaceful and tuckered out.

·

Stiles woke up to the sweet sound of birds chirping. Sunlight gently hit his face, warming him up. Not that he was cold, he had this warmth engulfing his torso and his head rested against a soft surface. Stiles found himself instinctively rubbing his cheek against the support. It only took a moment for him to realize it was a human arm.

All of his senses came back and Stiles turned his head to see Derek Hale sleeping beside him. Derek had an arm wrapped tightly around him. Stiles shut his eyes, wishing he would fall back asleep. Praying that just maybe this was a dream. Eyes still shut, Stiles felt down to Derek's arm. The soft and fleshy appendage was still there.

Stiles opened his eyes, but this time lifted his head. Scott was curled up at their feet, fast asleep. As long as Stiles had known Scott, he could sleep through anything. Stiles gently rested his head against Derek's arm again.

Never in a million years would Stiles have thought he'd sleep besides the Derek Hale. Stiles turned his head toward Derek again. He watched Derek lie there, more silent and vulnerable then he would have ever assumed possible. Derek's mouth had fallen ever so slack and his chest slowly rose in tune with his barely audible breathing. Stiles wasn't sure why he found this so mesmerizing, but he did. He silently watched him, completely fixated on his mouth. He felt his heartbeat begin to rise.

A cold breeze swept over the trio. Somehow during the night, Stiles had lost his jacket. Maybe that was why Derek was holding on to him? He couldn't remember. Never the less, Stiles inched a bit closer to Derek, for warmth purposes only.

As they laid there, Stiles remembered it was Monday. He and Scott had school. They had Chemistry class. How was Stiles going to face Mr. Harris? His teacher had probably, most likely, kissed his neck the other day. Stiles felt the blood rush to his head. His face burned up. He wished he could wake Derek or Scott up and talk out his anxiety.

Stiles focused his attention back on Derek, wishing that Derek was the source of his embarrassment. No. The thought had only crossed Stiles mind for a moment, he refused to acknowledge it any further, he did not want Derek to make him 'blush.' that would be weird and no, he didn't want that. Not at all.

Stiles stared up at the sky, trying to compose himself as best as he could. He ran his hand over the top of his head. The motion jolted his brain. He had to go home and change. He had to go home and be far away from here. He didn't want to think of it as being far away from Derek, but maybe that was best.

He looked at Derek one last time, biting his lip. This feeling felt like déjà vu, like he was reliving the emotional instability he endured sophomore year and Derek was his Jackson. Stiles lightly smacked his palm against his forehead before removing Derek's arm from his waist. He was able to silently stand up. He looked back at his pack's resting spot and wondered what it must have looked like to an outsider. He hoped it was awe-inspiring.

·

When Scott woke up it was to Derek taping his back.

"What time is it?" Scott asked, rubbing his face. He still felt tired.

Derek looked around their surroundings before turning his attention to Scott. "About 7:30"

Scott jumped up. "Damnit!" School started in less than half an hour. Scott grabbed his jacket that he had used as a makeshift pillow and threw it on his shoulder. "Wait, where's Stiles?"

Derek shrugged. "I don't know, I woke up and he was gone."

Scott face quickly shifted into one of terror. "You don't think he got caught by hunters, do you?"

Derek shook his head. "No. He was with us when we fell asleep, I'm sure of it." Derek said, running a hand over his face. "He probably went to school already. You should be there too."

Scott nodded and took off. Derek waited until he was sure Scott was gone before standing up. He walked back to the original clearing the pack had started at. He picked up Stiles discarded jacket and his own car keys that had just happened to fall within close proximity.


	8. Part 8

PART EIGHT

Jackson had to believe this was all some kind of sick joke the universe was playing on him. But how could some unknown deity truly hate him this much?

Monday morning coach Finstock was heard over the PA system announcing emergency lacrosse tryouts after school. Not only did that sound utterly ridiculous, but he swore he heard Scott and Stiles say something about showing up.

Danny Mahealani later confirmed the news.

"Yeah, supposedly Scott McCall has always wanted on the team."

"How do you know that?" Jackson asked. Yeah, Danny was amazing and could figure anything out given a good amount of time, but Scott McCall's ambitions in life? That seemed a little far-fetched.

Danny laughed at the expression forming on Jackson's face. Whenever Jackson started doubting something or questioning its credibility, his nose scrunched up and Danny always thought it made him look like an old man. "I was talking to Allison Argent and she told me how excited Scott was to finally tryout for the team."

"I don't know who that is." Jackson said, he thought the name sounded familiar, but obviously this 'Allison Argent' girl wasn't important enough to commit to memory. He looked down at the untouched tray before him and pushed his food away. He'd lost his appetite before lunch had even started.

"Scott's dating her.. I think. I'm not entirely sure." Danny said, losing interest in their conversation. He focused on the lunch before him and took a bite out of his sandwich.

Jackson ran his hand through his hair and looked around the cafeteria. He spotted Lydia with a few of her 'friends,' or rather, a couple of underclassmen that worshipped the ground she walked on.

Ever since the news broke out about the five guys from the lacrosse team getting suspended, she'd been avoiding him like he had the plague. Jackson was conflicted to say the least. On the one hand, he was pissed she'd write him off so quickly like they hadn't spent the past three years dating each other exclusively, but on the other hand, he knew better than anyone else Lydia was a bitch.

Jackson eyed her a little longer until he noticed Scott and Stiles a few tables over. He took a deep breath and began glaring at the pair.

He watched them sit at their table as if everything were fine and dandy. Like they had the world on a fucking string.

He despised them.

"Are you okay?" Danny asked. He tried to follow Jackson's line of sight.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jackson took his eyes off the pair and tried to focus on regaining his appetite, but was sidetracked by his other problem. He glanced up at the usual lacrosse team table and received a few glares. They acted as if it were his fault those dumbasses got wasted and decided to trash the local convenience store after his party.

·

"Aren't you giving Jackson  _exactly_  what he wants?" Stiles asked, using the last few moments of their English class to dissuade Scott and himself from going to the lacrosse tryouts. "What was the point of telling him you wouldn't join the team if you suddenly decide to tryout anyway?"

"He wanted to give me a spot, but now I'll tryout like everybody else. It's a whole lot more fair this way."

"You're acting like your brand new werewolf abilities aren't going to play into this."

Scott looked at Stiles and really took what he had said into consideration before smiling. "Yeah, the werewolf thing is totally gonna help. There's no way I'm not getting a spot."

"Then why was it a big deal if Jackson gave you a spot on Saturday?" Stiles asked, seeing absolutely no logic in Scott's track of mind.

"Well, he only offered me a spot, not you. Since the five slots opened up, we can join the team together." Scott gave Stiles one of his puppy dogfaces.

Stiles wanted to glare, glare so intensely it'd put Sharon Cherski to shame, but he couldn't. Who could say no to that face? Certainly not Stiles.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

"I hate you." Stiles muttered, tossing his backpack on over his shoulder. Scott did the same while patting him on the back.

"I know, but it'll be fun. Trust me."

·

The tryouts were embarrassingly easy and the turn out wasn't exactly up to par with the usual start of the semester tryouts. Only kids who weren't affiliated with any other teams bothered to show up, and they had no idea had to play the sport. Coach Finstock had gotten so desperate he asked the yearbook photographer to stop taking pictures of the abysmal auditions and throw on some lacrosse gear and tryout himself. Making him the fifth recruit.

After an hour of attempting to teach the new guys the rules, Finstock decided to start running drills.

"Alright, so you're going to throw the ball to that net, okay?" Finstock said, running his hands through his already disheveled hair. "That's all your going to do."

With the exception of Scott, all the new tryouts blankly stared up at the coach.

"Jesus." Finstock hit his fists against his skull. "Whittemore, get over here!"

As team captain, Jackson had to stay and watch the tryouts, much to his dismay. He took his time walking over to their side of the field.

"Show them how to throw the thing!" Finstock said waving his arms and stomping his way to the bench. He'd given up all hope.

Jackson picked up a lacrosse stick and demonstrated the simple motion of throwing a ball. "It's not that hard, just line up," the boys lined up, "Now throw the ball."

The other boys gave it their best try. Isaac included. He had shown up for the tryouts and managed to get the ball close to the goal, but it wasn't until Scott and Stiles were up did Finstock start to show the slightest interest. They were able to hit the net with ease.

Finstock shot up from the bench. "Perfect! Yes, this was exactly what I was looking for. McCall and other kid, get over here!"

Scott and Stiles ran over the Finstock's bench and Jackson followed. "So, how would you guys like to play first string?"

Scott's face lit up, and to his surprise, so did Stiles'. "Really?" They asked in unison.

"Coach, you can't just make them first string, there are other guys on the team to consider." Jackson said, trying to stop the madness. His face was beginning to redden with distress.

Finstock scoffed. "Come on Jackson, we both know the team is seriously lacking in the skill department, and these two can at least hit a target consistently. None of the guys are gonna care if I make a couple exceptions, you know, for the sake of the team."

"But  _he_  has severe asthma," Jackson said pointing at Scott's general direction, then Stiles', "And  _he_  couldn't even keep up in gym class until last week. They're both unreliable."

Scott and Stiles exchanged nervous glances as Jackson stared down the coach, but Finstock didn't budge. Eventually Jackson gave up and stormed off the field. Finstock wasn't fazed by Jackson's behavior or even surprised, but he did end tryouts early.

He walked back to the other recruits on the field. "Well, since there are only five of you, I guess that fills the spots. So, uh, show up tomorrow for your first official practice."

The guys returned to the locker room in silence. The yearbook photographer, Matt, went as well. Scott swore he was creepily watching him, but he didn't want to make a fuss and call him out.

Before he'd gotten his locker open, Finstock pulled Stiles outside to talk. "Uh, I never caught your name."

"Stiles.. Stilinski. It's on my permission form."

"Oh." Finstock looked through the clipboard he held at his side. "Huh, it is there. All right Stilinski I'm going to be painfully honesty with you. You've got a lot of power in your throw, but your form sucks. I mean, it's good enough to put you on first string, don't get me wrong, but if you don't improve it you'll break your spine before your 20."

Finstock patted Stiles' back before going to his office.

Stiles walked himself back to the locker room. Most of the guys were leaving as he made his way inside. He saw that Scott was just about done packing up as well.

"Am I still giving you a ride home?"

Scott smiled up at Stiles as he tied his shoelace. "Allison's picking me up, we're going to celebrate."

"How does she know you even made the cut?" Stiles asked, opening up his locker and pulling out his clothes.

"I called her." Scott stood up. He still had the large grin plastered on his face. "She's gonna be here soon."

Stiles gave him a small smile. He didn't want to say anything that might ruin Scott's moment. Sure, he could say Scott was being a shitty friend and ditching him for Allison again, but he wouldn't. He couldn't do that to Scott.

He heard a small buzzing and Scott pulled his phone out of his pocket. His face lit up with excitement.

"She's already here waiting for you, isn't she?"

Scott nodded. "Yeah. I'll see you later, alright." Scott said, running out of the locker room.

Stiles finished changing his clothes and left the minutes later. After he exited the locker room, he ran into Jackson in the parking lot. He was leaning against Stiles' jeep.

"How are you and McCall doing this?" Jackson asked, standing up and glaring at Stiles.

"Doing what?" Jackson had a crazy look in his eyes that told Stiles he should get away from him as quickly as possible. He took his keys out from his pocket, but Jackson smacked them out of his hand. Stiles glared back at him, and his heart began pumping faster. He clenched his fist and fought the urge to punch Jackson down. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jackson scoffed. "What's wrong with me? Last week you and Scott were nothing, and now you're suddenly first string on  _my team_. I don't know if drugs or steroids and I don't care, but you and your little friend need to back the hell off."

"Or what, Jackson?" Stiles asked taking a step toward him, he felt this sudden boost of confidence. He could take Jackson there was no question about it, not even the slightest doubt. "What are you gonna do to stop us? I know you think you take us, but you can't. And so long as Scott and I are here, we're going to do whatever the hell we please." Stiles wasn't sure why he'd said that, he hadn't really meant any of it. In his head, he had planned to ignore Jackson's crazy, retrieve his keys and get the hell out of dodge, but that obviously wasn't going to happen now. In fact, Stiles felt like someone else had taken over.

It was like he could barely control himself anymore. His blood was pumping too fast, and the adrenaline was getting to him. In a sick and twisted way, he was actually enjoying this. The almighty Jackson Whittemore really considered him a threat. So much so that he'd go out of his way to try and intimidate him. A smile came over Stiles' face.

Jackson on the other hand, was not as enthusiastic. He continued glaring at Stiles. "If you don't, I'll make sure everybody knows the sheriff's son is juicing up. That's an elected position, right?"

That hit Stiles, sending a chill over his body and effectively stalled the beast within. "You're a fucking bitch, Whittemore. You're so desperate to make everyone around you as miserable as you feel inside."

"He'd have a mighty hard time getting re-elected!" Jackson shouted, drowning Stiles' voice with his own. "What would he do if he weren't sheriff anymore? Can he even do anything else? Everybody knows he can hardly do his job now. Oh, when was his last heart attack again? 2-3 months ago?"

Stiles lost all attention he'd given Jackson and focused on the thought of his father losing his job. Then he saw the image of his father lying in the hospital when his heart had nearly given out after getting shot.

As dangerous as it was, his father loved his job. Stiles remembered his father telling him stories when he was younger, stories about wanting to be an officer of the law, and wanting to protect people and keep them safe. He couldn't let Jackson ruin that.

"Your father will be  _nothing_  but another has been, probably trying to ration what's left of your mother's life insurance—"

Stiles pushed Jackson hard against the jeep. Stiles tried to punch him, but Jackson dodged his fist by sliding down to the asphalt, half covering his face.

Stiles ended up smashing his hand through his window and pulled out a claw back out. The transformation was happening faster than it ever had. Stiles could hardly even feel his jaw unhinging and the violent shudder that had taken over his body.

He looked down at Jackson. He was going to kill him.

Jackson looked up at a monster. He had fallen to the ground in an attempt to save his face from Stiles' fist, but he wasn't prepared for this. Whatever was staring back at him wasn't Stiles, and he wasn't even sure it was human. He bolted before the monster even had a chance to touch him.

When Jackson planned to confront Stiles, this wasn't the direction he thought the conversation would go, but at least he knew how Stiles and Scott had done so well at tryouts. It may have not been drugs like he suspected, but now he knew for sure that they were cheating.

Stiles watched Jackson run away. His first instinct was to chase after him, but the searing pain in his right hand interrupted the thought. He looked down at his arm and saw his blood dripping to the asphalt. He had a rather large piece of glass impaled through his fist. The sight was enough to change his hand back. Another searing pang of pain coursed through him.

Stiles roughly grabbed on to the shard and tried to pull it out, but he couldn't control his strength. He had only managed to slice his left palm open and break the glass into smaller pieces.

His entire body changed back as he fell to the ground, his back against his jeep. The sight of his own blood was making him nervously shake while the pain made it impossible for him to keep his eyes open. Hot tears of pain fell from his eyes. Stiles looked around hoping Scott would show up, or even Derek. Preferably Derek. Derek would know what to.

A moment passed and Stiles knew nobody was coming, and he was in far too much pain to stand himself up or pull his cell phone out from his back pocket. So he started digging through the wound, trying to pull out all the pieces of glass he could find. He stopped once he thought he'd gotten them all. He examined his left hand; the deep cuts over his palm had already healed themselves.

Stiles felt a bit of relief wash over him. He managed to stand himself up and find his discarded keys. He used the sweater he'd dumped in his backseat earlier that day to wrap up his hand in an attempt to stop the blood flow. Though his left hand seemed to heal normally, his right hand wasn't getting any better.

Stiles sat in the driver's seat and pulled out his cell phone, he wasn't sure who to call. Not Scott, he was on a date. Not his father, he was busy working and this would take too long to explain. That only left Derek.

"Um, hey, I'm sorry to call you, I know this was supposed to be for emergencies, but I hurt myself and it's not healing.. Well it kind of is, but not very quickly." Stiles said, tightly gripping his wrist, he hoped to stop the circulation to his hand. The blood was starting to seep through the material.

"Where are you?" Derek said in a rushed voice. Stiles figured he was walking, probably to his car.

"I'm at the school parking lot." Stiles said, immediately hearing a click afterwards. He held out his phone to see that Derek had hung up. Stiles rested his head against the back of his seat; he was beginning to feel lightheaded.

There was a loud bang at his window when he opened his eyes. Derek stood there watching him. Stiles opened the door and stepped out of his jeep.

Derek grabbed his wrapped up hand and removed the jacket. He examined Stiles hand.

Stiles leaned against his jeep, lightly rubbing his head. He still felt a little lightheaded.

Derek held on to Stiles hand. "I thought you said you weren't healing?" Derek looked around Stiles to get a better view of the broken window. "What happened to your window?"

Stiles stared down at his hand, he wasn't sure if Derek knew he was massaging into his palm. It was soothing, but a distraction. Stiles couldn't look him in the eye.

"I punched my window."

Derek nodded, trying to reconstruct the situation in his head. "So that's your blood on the other side of the jeep?" Stiles nodded. "Did anybody see what happened?"

Now came for the moment of truth, but Stiles couldn't do it. How could he tell Derek he'd slipped up and exposed the secret to Jackson?

"No. It was just me." Stiles said staring down at the asphalt. Now he couldn't even look at Derek.

Derek ran his hand up Stiles' arm, getting his attention. "What's wrong?"

"I punched my car's window.." Stiles couldn't think of anything else to say.

"You were acting strange yesterday too, what's wrong?"

Stiles felt Derek's soft eyes watching him, and he was becoming hyper aware of the close proximity of their bodies and the fact that Derek's hand still held on to his. Stiles couldn't admit the sudden blood flow to his face.

"Nothing's wrong, I'm.." Stiles couldn't even finish his lie.

"I know something's wrong Stiles I can sense it." Stiles pulled his hand away from Derek and crossed his arms.

"After Jackson's party I ran into my teacher in the woods and it was... Weird" Stiles lightly scratched his arm. "He kissed my neck."

Moments of silence passed before Derek started laughing. The sound surprised Stiles.

"Really Stiles?" He continued laughing.

"It's not  _that_  funny."

When Derek finished laughing, he leaned against Stiles' jeep beside him. He released a few more laughs as Stiles glared at him. "That's why you've been so strange lately? Because your teacher kissed your neck?"

Stiles felt his face heat up more. "Shut up."

"Oh come on Stiles, that's not even a big deal. When I was in high school people said I was sleeping with my teacher."

Stiles looked at Derek's face. He had an uncharacteristically large smile on his face. "Were you sleeping with your teacher?"

Derek's expression dropped. "No."

Stiles turned towards Derek. "Derek, can you not tell Scott about this. I don't want him to know."

Derek nodded, putting his arm on Stiles shoulder, lightly petting him. "You should probably head home, it's getting late."

"Yeah.. I just don't know what I'm going to tell my dad about the window."

"I don't think I can help there."

Stiles looked around the parking lot, he didn't see Derek's car anywhere. "Did you drive here?"

"I ran."

"Oh.. Do you want a ride or something?" Stiles asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. "You just have to tell me where to go, but I'm sure it beats running home."

Derek silently looked over Stiles' jeep and shook his head 'no'. "I'm fine. Just go home Stiles."

Stiles smiled and nodded, and remembered how lightheaded he felt. He got in the drivers seat and took off. He started to feel a little better on the drive home.


	9. Part 9

PART NINE

Allison awkwardly sat on her front porch waiting for her dad to get home. He was bringing her aunt Kate from the airport and told her to be ready to greet her. As if Allison weren't excited already.

She watched the younger kids in her neighborhood goof around and throw small rocks at each other. She shifted around in her spot as she laughed at their tomfoolery then absentmindedly checked her phone. A smile spread across her face. Scott had texted her.

_Do you want to hang out?_

Allison covered her mouth, trying to hide her smile, and looked around the street. She didn't want the neighborhood kids to think she was strange for getting excited over a text.

She bit her lip, thinking about her response. Of course she wanted to see Scott, Scott was this amazing joy in her life. He was this entity that changed the way she saw the world. After her mother died, Allison had endured living in a deranged haze. She had felt lost and didn't know what to do with herself, but when she moved to Beacon Hills Scott McCall's smile alone seemed to clear everything up.

Now they were happily dating.

Allison wanted to tell him yes. God knew she wanted to say yes, but her father would never let her go. He didn't know about Scott yet and she knew he wouldn't respond well to her ditching a 'family get together' for 'some boy'.

_Sorry I can't, I have a family thing._

_Maybe after?_

She set her phone down beside her, and looked out to the street, patiently waiting for his reply. Allison's first instinct was to desperately wait in anticipation with her hands covering her face and lay in an almost fetal position, but she composed herself and focused on her next door neighbor's Halloween decorations until she heard the vibrations against the stone steps to her house.

Allison quickly grabbed for her phone. She mentally kicked herself for acting too eager, but checked the message regardless.

_It's alright_

_Yeah I would love to meet up later_

Allison smiled again, holding back an excited giggle. Despite being 18, she'd never felt this way over any guy before. She'd never even dated anyone before. In all honesty, Scott was the first guy she'd ever intimately kissed and held hands with. This was still new territory for her.

Allison had been an awkward child growing up. But being raised a hunter tends to do that, unless you're Kate. Her aunt Kate was the exception to everything. Kate was especially pretty, and especially strong, and especially perfect for a hunter. All the guys in the BHHA only ever wanted to talk about Kate and the amazing missions she conducted and the progress she'd made in Beacon Hills before Allison's parents showed up.

Some flickers of animosity welled up within Allison. She couldn't help it, but she still loved her aunt. Nothing could change that.

Allison realized she was gripping her phone a little too tight and dropped it on her lap. She looked up to clear her head and saw her dad driving down the block. By the time she rose from the porch he was pulling into the garage. Her aunt Kate waved from the passenger seat. Allison smiled back and hugged her once she got out the car.

"Wow, look at you!" Kate said, tightly wrapping her arms around Allison. "You look so grown up. The last times I saw you, you were still going through those awkward prepubescent changes. How could you let this happen Chris?" Kate said laughing. Allison's dad shrugged.

"She's always gonna be my little girl." Chris said smiling at the two. Allison was relieved his hands were too busy with Kate's belongings to turn the moment a photo opt.

Allison took a step away from her aunt and continued smiling at her and her father.

"I'm so glad you decided to visit." Allison said, clapping her hands together. "How long are you staying in town?" Allison asked. She tried to keep her focus on Kate as her phone vibrated in her hand. She received another text from Scott.

"Just a while." The trio walked into the house before Kate spoke again. Allison was about to subtly check her phone, but her aunt looked at her again. "I heard Derek Hale's back in town. How's that going?"

Chris frowned at her, quickly glancing at Allison. "Kate. Can we not discuss that right now? Don't you want to get settled in first?"

Kate turned towards her older brother and gave him an exasperated groan, rolling her eyes. "Come on Chris, Allison is  _technically_  heading the BHHA, I think she'll be okay hearing the grown-up talk." Kate looked at Allison again. "Haven't I already told you about the Hale family? Derek's a werewolf."

Allison nodded. Kate told had her about the werewolf situation in Beacon Hills and the Hale family's involvement during her year of training, along with an assortment of other Argent secrets.

"You know?" Chris asked, watching Allison. He still hadn't got around to telling her about the werewolves they had on file. He had wanted to keep her as objective as possible. Chris believed the best way to lead a group was through a clear, unbiased lens.

"She had a right to know. You can't keep stuff like that a secret from her." Kate said smirking. She looked at Allison again. "Have you been giving the wolf hell yet?"

Allison and Kate laughed together as Chris glared at his sister. He cleared his throat as he crossed his arms. "We follow a code Kate. None of us can go around hassling Derek or anybody else we suspect is a werewolf."

"Ignore him. All werewolves are monstrosities that need to be exterminated, like cockroaches." Kate said, wrapping her arm around Allison's shoulders. She walked her to the kitchen, where they sat down to catch up. Chris left to retrieve the rest of Kate's bags. Now he was starting to regret inviting his sister over, but in all honesty he didn't have much of a choice.

"So how's school? Keeping up your straight A average?" Kate asked, sitting in the chair opposite her niece.

"School's good." Allison said, again fighting the urge to check her phone. She had felt another vibration in her hand. "I've been getting pretty good grades too."

"Have you met any cute boys yet?" Kate asked, slightly leaning on the table. Allison blushed as she thought of Scott. Kate smiled at her, Allison was like an open book. "Aww, come on, you can tell me. I promise I won't tell Chris."

Allison gave in and checked her phone. The two messages read,

_I'm thinking about what we can do later..._

_We could go for ice cream_

Allison quickly texted him a confirmation.

_Sounds like fun :)_

"Is that him?" Kate asked, trying to look over the table at Allison's phone.

"Yeah," Allison said, trying to hold back a smile. "We're gonna go out later."

"Nice... He's not ugly is he? Allison, I refuse to let you date a guy who doesn't understand the concept of personal hygiene. You very pretty, and could nab a decent portion of the guys in town if you wanted to... Just show me a picture of him, I'll tell you of he's good enough." Kate said. She rested her chin on her palm and thought aloud. "You're gonna have to introduce him to me sometime."

Allison violently shook her head no. "He's really handsome, but you can't meet him. My dad doesn't know about him. He  _can't_  know about him."

Kate laughed, leaning back in her chair. "I know what that's like. I remember hiding guys from my father. They usually had some kind weird facial tattoos or were seriously obsessed with the occult. So what's wrong with your guy? What kind of weird stuff are kids into these days?"

Allison bite her lip as Kate spoke. She knew Scott was nothing like the guys she was describing. Scott was perfectly normal. "He's normal."

Kate sat up straight in her seat, staring Allison square in the eye. "No teenage boy is  _normal_. So, what's wrong with him?" Kate took a moment to guess his possible alignment. "He's not a drug addict, is he?"

"No."

"Drug dealer?"

"No. He's just normal. I mean, he's not  _just_ normal. He's handsome and kind and he can be really funny sometimes. He and I get along really well."

"Come on Allison. If he's what you're describing then Chris would know about him, he's met your other boyfriends, right?"

"No. I haven't dated anyone before."

"Aww, he's your first boyfriend. That's adorable Allison." Kate said laughing. "Oh God, when I was your age, if I wasn't hunting down some lowlife monster I was hooking up guys left and right." Kate looked off, slightly reminiscing about her youth. "I had my pick of whoever I wanted, and guys feel to their knees for me. I could literally make them do anything for me."

Allison awkwardly looked around the kitchen, checking for her dad. She didn't want to find out he'd been secretly ease dropping in on their conversation. The last thing she needed was for him to find out about Scott. She was already regretting telling her aunt anything.

"You know what?" Kate said, standing from the table. "We need to celebrate my return. It's been years since I've been in Beacon Hills."

Allison stood up as well. "What do you want to do?"

Kate shrugged, "Drive around."

·

Derek had stopped in the parking lot at Dan's Groceries. He 'd received another text from Stiles. Lately the younger boy had taken up the habit of texting him whenever he got bored. Derek never responded, but he was amused. Stiles was a terrible at texting. Deciphering the messages was turning into a little game for him.

He stood, leaning against his car, looking around. With every text he was more compelled to reply, but he didn't. He shut off his phone and stuffed it in his jacket's small pocket. Derek walked into the store. He had to go shopping today. He had run out of food a few days ago and was sick of eating out.

He walked into the store and had to ignore the obligatory stares from the staff and other customers. Everybody still remembered him as that kid whose family died. He could still feel their eyes accusing him, as if had started the fire. They all watched him like he was a criminal.

Derek was constantly reminded why he hated going into public.

As he walked through the aisles, Derek spotted Kate Argent. He felt his heart fault; he stopped in his tracks and mentally planned an escape route. So long as he didn't draw any attention to himself, he should be good, but it was too late for that. He could hear his name in the murmurs of the people a few aisles down.

He rushed out of the store as quickly as he could and maneuvered through the parking lot as swiftly as possible, he had to stay out her sight. He was almost at his car when he felt something penetrate through his skin, forcefully pressing him against a neighboring car. He felt the sharp piece slice through his arm, hitting into his bone. Derek couldn't stop himself from crying out in pain.

He pulled himself behind his car for shelter, cradling his arm once he was clear. Blood was seeping out from his jacket, and the pain was beginning to spread. Derek looked at his wound; he had an short metallic arrow sticking out from his arm. When he tried to pull it out the pain made him groan. He could feel the traces of wolfsbane coating the arrow and spreading into his blood. Now everything was beginning to hurt.

Derek closed his eyes, preparing himself and pulled the arrow out from his arm. His hands slightly shook as he dropped the relatively short piece. He stood up and looked around, still safely hidden by his car. He saw Kate and a younger girl racing through the parking lot, searching behind every car to find him.

He grabbed the arrow and jumped in the driver's seat and took off. His wound still hadn't healed yet so he carefully placed his arm over his lap; the last thing he wanted was to get blood on his seats. He drove for a good ten miles before pulling over and checking his arm again.

The wound remained and Derek felt the wolfsbane coursing through him, and sweat was beginning to form at his brow. He felt like he was losing control and a shift was coming, but when the phone in his jacket began to vibrate again he was anchored back.

·

"Damnit!" Kate said, hitting the hood of a black civic. Allison quickly examined the small dent she had caused and considered writing an apology note for the owner. Kate turned back to Allison. "I told you, you have to get his chest! If you don't the wolfsbane doesn't spread fast enough. Now we're gonna have a pissed off werewolf on our hands."

"I'm sorry." Allison said, looking around the parking lot. People could hear Kate yelling and wanted to see where the commotion was coming from. Allison felt her face heat up; she wanted to go home now.

Kate continued glaring down at her niece. "How did you miss? You're a nationally ranked champion."

"Well, if I had hit his chest the wolfsbane would have spread too quickly and he could have died." Allison said quietly. She didn't like her aunt getting so worked up like this. Her temper was the one of the many reasons she had to move back with her dad after a year of training.

"Sweetie, that was the point." Allison could hear the venom in her aunt's voice. Kate then proceeded to quickly run a hand through her hair.

Allison felt her jaw fall as she stared at Kate. "We can't just kill him. He hasn't done anything wrong, that's against the code."

"The fact that he's a werewolf is wrong all on its own."

"But we have to follow the code."

Kate looked away from Allison and gave an exasperated sigh before turning back and giving her a false smile. "I guess you're right. You are heading the hunters' association now, I guess you get to make the final calls."

Allison held in a smile. She was technically in charge of the hunters in Beacon Hills, but she usually let her father take charge. It was nice to have her position acknowledged.

Kate and Allison walked back to their car. Once they were seated, Allison had to ask the question on her mind.

"Why do you dislike Derek so much?"

Kate laughed as she started the car. "History, I guess. His sister was a complete bitch when we were in school."

"She was a werewolf too, right?"

"Yep. And I enjoyed every minute of chasing her down trying to kill her ass. I'll admit though, I was a little bummed out to hear she offed herself. God knows I would have loved to have been the one to slice her in half." Kate looked at the passenger's side, at Allison. Allison gave her a quick smile, attempting to disguise her discomfort. She loved her aunt Kate, but sometimes she took things a little too far.

"Now all I have is little old Derek to play with." Kate said tightly gripping the steering wheel. " Could you imagine how good it would look if I was the one who finished off the Hale lineage? Damn, that'd be awesome."

Allison had a hard time looking her aunt in the eye for the rest of the car ride.

·

When Derek reached his apartment he took the arrow he'd been impaled with and examined it in good light. He found a small inscription near the tip that read 'A. A.'

He assumed it was the initials of the younger girl who'd been with Kate. Whoever she was, she looked familiar. Derek was sure he'd seen her somewhere recently, but he couldn't remember where.

Derek placed the arrow in his closet and saw the red imprints that started forming on his palm and fingers. The wolfsbane was still highly concentrated on the arrow. Derek checked his arm as well. His injury was beginning to heal, but wasn't finished yet. The herb was still in his system. Derek sat down on his sofa and rested his head back. He took refuge in knowing that the Argents were still unaware of apartment. It was his last safe haven.


	10. Part 10

PART TEN

Stiles still couldn't believe he'd survived his gym class. Jackson had spent the hour sending him intimidating death glares from across the field, but that was all. He assumed Jackson would have some major convoluted plan set in motion to expose him, but no. The last few days he acted like nothing had changed like it was any other day, as if he hadn't witnessed Stiles partially shift into a werewolf. Honestly, it made Stiles feel even worse about the whole situation and his anxiety continued to escalate.

As he walked to his chemistry class, Stiles spotted Scott and Allison together in the hallway. Lately they spent all their time together and were physically inseparable. Stiles was starting to suspect that all their hand holding had somehow fused their fingers together.

Stiles paused in the hall, watching the couple. He knew he could easily catch up to them, but he didn't want to be that awkward third wheel tailing behind them. Instead, he preoccupied himself by opening his backpack and pretending to rummage through it. He'd rather suffer through the loneliness, and it wasn't as if he had anything interesting to say to them anyway. Scott had barely spoken to Stiles the past few days unless it was werewolf related. At best they'd discuss the 'pleasant weather'.

Stiles watched as Scott and Allison made their way to class, occasionally stopping to say 'hi' to other students. Stiles hadn't noticed until now just how popular Scott seemed to be getting. Everybody loved him. The way they spoke to him sounded so genuine, and their smiles so kind. A month ago kids didn't look twice at him and now they all wanted his undivided attention.

Scott and Allison eventually walked into the room and Stiles stopped outside the classroom, listening in on them. Once he was sure the couple had settled in their seats, he walked in. The chemistry room was still relatively empty, but it had been the last couple of days. Most students stopped coming to class after the first couple of substitutes.

Mr. Harris hadn't shown his face at school since the incident in the woods. Stiles didn't care what Mr. Harris did. Whether he showed up or not was his call, but that didn't stop Stiles from loathing the substitutes with a burning passion. All class period they were forced to watch hour long videos about irrelevant and utterly useless material, then start them all over again the next day. Stiles would almost prefer Mr. Harris come back, but then again, he wasn't sure how he'd react when he actually saw Harris.

In his mind, everything played out so simply. Stiles would shoot him one of his famous death glares, then Mr. Harris would apologize profusely about the situation and then they'd moved on, never speaking of that night again. All would be forgotten and Stiles could get on with his life.

Stiles didn't want to admit it, but that night played nonstop in his head. The thought of it made his stomach churn and his palms sweat. He desperately needed some kind of resolution.

Stiles slumped in his chair in the back of the room, he distracted himself from thoughts of Harris by staring at the backs of Scott and Allison. He remembered when he used to sit next to his best friend. Back when Allison was nothing more than an unattainable angel in the corner of Scott's eye. Those were the days.

Eventually Scott turned around to examine the room. Once he spotted Stiles he waved at him. Stiles waved back. Allison glanced back as well and waved at him too. Scott smiled at him then at Allison.

It was in that moment Stiles knew that Scott truly thought everything was fine. He had no idea he was ditching Stiles for Allison, and the thought would never cross his mind. Stiles wanted to believe everything was fine too, but it wasn't. He felt like he was losing his brother.

Stiles put his head in his hands once Scott faced forward again. His mind wandered back and he thought about Derek. In particular, the moment when he told Derek what had happened between him and Harris. Stiles felt his face heat up. He couldn't explain it, but something about Derek made him want to spill his guts, he couldn't keep something like that from him, no matter how hard he tried. The more he thought about it made Stiles realize that he didn't want to keep secrets from Derek. He could trust Derek.

Stiles heard someone sit across from him at the lab table. He looked up from his palms to see the girl he'd worked with a few days prior, Erica. Stiles tried to be nice and say hello, but she stayed silent and awkwardly avoided his eyes by staring down at the table and playing with her messy hair. She was an odd individual to say the least.

Stiles resolved to ignore her presence. He absentmindedly stared out the classroom's window, looking at the lacrosse field. Being on the team wasn't as big a hassle as he had first assumed, but he still didn't get along with any of his teammates. He spent most of the time listening in on Scott's conversations with the other guys.

"Alright class, today we're going to start by taking a small quiz on the material you should have learned while I was out." Mr. Harris walked into the room. "I need everyone to break into pairs."

Stiles felt his stomach drop. He already missed the boring substitutes with their strange last names and boring videos. Stiles looked around the room trying to gage the other students' reactions to their teacher's return, all while avoiding Harris' gaze. He wasn't surprised to see Scott pair up with Allison.

Mr. Harris looked around the room, taking a warm body count of the students. "I guess we have an uneven number today.." Harris was going to say more, but a student walked into the room with a call slip and handed it to him. Harris walked up to Erica and handed her the slip of paper. She quickly grabbed her belongings and walked out of the room, leaving Stiles alone. That left only one other person yet to be paired up. "Jackson, you can work with Stilinski."

Jackson had been sitting alone near the front of the room. He slowly walked over to Stiles table, but instead of talking Erica's seat, he sat in the seat besides Stiles. Scott shot Stiles a worried glance, but Allison called his attention back to the assignment.

Stiles looked towards Mr. Harris, trying to give him a pleading look. Harris gave him a quick smirk before walking to the front of the classroom.  _Now_  he wished he'd been one of the smart kids and had ditched class.

Jackson openly stared at Stiles, not caring about the potential repercussions. He wasn't worried about what happened the other day happening again. He was actually counting on it. Stiles losing his composure would only serve to hinder  _him_  and no one else. If anything, Jackson might even be regarded as a hero for outing Stiles' secret.

"Um, so did you take any notes while Harris was gone?" Stiles asked, staring down at the worksheet Mr. Harris had quickly passed around. He was trying to keep as calm as possible and doing his best to ignore Jackson's bright blue eyes. "I didn't. I should of, but I didn't think we'd be tested on anything."

Stiles quickly looked at Jackson to check if he was still staring, he was.

Stiles felt his heart beat increase and his hands clam up. He couldn't look at Jackson anymore; he was making him too nervous. Stiles felt like this was sophomore year all over again. He decided to stay quiet and start filling out the paper himself. He refused to be that confused 15 year old boy again.

Jackson leaned closer to Stiles and whispered to him. "So what exactly happened Monday? I'm just curious." Jackson put his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. He gave Stiles a soft smile, as if he were trying to comfort him.. Or flirt. The expression on his face put Stiles on edge.

"I don't... I.." The words weren't forming. Stiles tried to look Jackson in the face, but he got lost. Stiles' gaze drifted from Jackson's eyes to the light freckles on his nose, then to his lips. All the blood drained from his face and fell.. lower. He looked away again. He had to remind himself that he was supposed to  _hate_  Jackson. He did hate Jackson. "I don't know what you're-"

"Don't lie to me." Jackson hit his hand down against the table and lowered his voice. He had lost all of his previous composure. The look on Jackson's face told Stiles just how serious this was. "You know  _exactly_  what I'm talking about, so  _don't_ lie to me."

Jackson paused a moment to collect himself. "It's not just you right? It's Scott, too. Both of you are.. Whatever you guys are. That's how you made the team, right? You both cheated."

"Jackson, I don't know you what you think you saw, but-"

Jackson grabbed Stiles' arm. He pulled Stiles towards him so they were facing each other. "Stop lying and listen to me. I don't care what you are, or how you got that way, and I promise I'll keep my mouth shut, but only if you get for me too."

"What?" Stiles hadn't expected Jackson to respond like that. Instead of the compressive weight of hatred, Stiles felt patchy bits of envy emitting from Jackson. He meant what he said. He really wanted the bite.

"You heard me, I want in too. So how did you and Scott do it?"

"No." Stiles couldn't imagine a worse scenario than Jackson getting thrown into the werewolf mix. That was the last kind of stress he needed in his life.

" _No_? No, is not an acceptable answer. You either get me what I want or I expose you and McCall."

Stiles felt his blood boil. He moved closer the other boy and clenched his fists. He was ready to punch Jackson's smug face, and this time he was sure he wouldn't miss. Jackson remembered the expression and looked down at Stiles' hands. "If you hit me, I swear to God I'll expose you right now."

Jackson leaned in closer to Stiles, lowering his voice again. "So tell me, what do I have to do to get what I want?"

Stiles could hardly believe how quickly Jackson evoked these emotions in him. One moment he had a semi-hardon and the next he wanted to attack that stupid face. Stiles just barely resisted the urge to growl by grabbing his backpack and walking out of the classroom.

His heart was beating too fast and he felt that heavy weight in his jaw come back. He ran to the boys' restroom and leaned against the wooden door, preventing anyone else from entering. He felt the transformation coming again. Stiles tried counting his breathes but it didn't work. The whole world was crashing down and the explosion was seconds away, and he felt so alone.

Stiles came to the sudden realization that he ruined  _everything_. Derek had only given him and Scott one task: don't get caught. Barely two weeks into the werewolf life he'd already messed up. Stiles hit his fists against his head. He felt like a walking disaster. He couldn't do anything right. He ruined everything.

Stiles felt his breath hitch in his chest. The emptiness was beginning to consume him. He was on the verge of falling to the floor and breaking down. He was so close to giving in, but he didn't. He tried remembering what Derek had told him at the loading bay. He remembered Derek's hand on his chest, pushing him down, grounding him. Stiles put his hand over the same spot, pushing himself against the door.

The pressure wasn't as effective as when Derek did it, but it helped. Stiles closed his eyes and mentally went over that time in the back of Dan's Groceries again. Derek had swooped out of nowhere and saved him, he even stayed with him until Scott showed and stayed after he left.

Stiles calmed down and didn't feel like he was at risk of shifting again, but his chest still hurt, even after he removed his hand. He hit the back of his head against the bathroom door. He hated thinking about Derek. He couldn't control the thoughts that followed afterwards, or where they lead. He hit his head against the door again.

He thought about returning to class, but only for a moment until he realized just how stupid of an idea that was. He ultimately decided to go hide in his jeep until school was over and lacrosse practice started.

 ·

Stiles was at home sitting at his desk when he heard the front door slam. His father was back early for once. He felt like a child as he ran downstairs to greet him. When Stiles was younger he'd always greet his father at the front door as soon as he got home from work. He never missed a day.

"Hey Stiles," his father said, carrying a bag of food with him as he tried to remove his jacket.

"Hey. You brought dinner?" Stiles asked. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until he smelled the scent emanating from the bag. His heightened senses made the hamburgers all the more delectable. He took the bag from his father and set it down on the dinner table.

His father smiled. "Yeah." They both walked into the kitchen and began pulling out plates and cups. "I finally got out early today, so I thought I'd bring something home."

"So, what were you working on today? Was it still about the 'monster' sightings or the murder outside of town? Oh, did they ever figure out what killed the woman?" Stiles asked, as he emptied the contents from the bag. Lately the murder was becoming public knowledge, but the word buzzing around town wasn't murder. People were starting to believe it was an animal attack. From what Stiles heard kids saying at Jackson's party, the animal fur still couldn't be identified. He hoped his father could give him some more insight.

"That's strictly police business." Stiles' father carefully eyed him. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious." Stiles said, then started laughing. "I don't want you to get too scared at work. So I figured we could talk about the 'scary cases'."

"Yeah, I'm just terrified aren't I?" His father said, rolling his eyes, but laughing along with Stiles. They sat down at their table and began eating. "So how was school?"

Stiles didn't know how to answer. "It was fine, I guess." It's not like he could tell his father he ditched most of the day after having a slight mental breakdown in the boys' restroom. That might worry him even more than usual. Stiles could already feel his father's underlying distress. As hard as his father tried to hid it, Stiles' werewolf senses allowed him to read him like an open book.

Every time his father looked at him his heart rate increased. Stiles could only assume it was in fear of something.

"Fine,  _just_  fine?" His father looked up at him and smiled. "It's high school, you should be coming home with stories about today being the best day of your life. Or how you had so much fun at lacrosse practice after school."

Stiles and his father laughed. "Right, yeah that's totally high school. You know what, today was amazing. I had a great day and lacrosse was a blast."

His father put down his burger and clapped his hands together. "There we go, positive thinking."

"Yep, that makes the whole world go 'round."

Stiles focused back on eating his hamburger. While his father watched him, trying to carefully pick out his words. "You know, we need to do something."

"Like what?" Stiles asked in between bites.

"I don't know, maybe we could go fishing?"

"You hate fishing." Stiles said. He raised his brow. "Why would you wanna go fishing?"

His father shrugged. He put down his veggie burger again and wiped his hands. "We don't spend enough time together. I'm never home or I'm too busy with work.. Next year you'll be in university and we'll hardly see each other anymore."

Stiles audible sighed, setting down his food as well. "Dad.." He said, drawing out the word.

His father's face wrinkled up. It always wrinkled up when he got concerned or worried. "I'm serious Stiles, we don't have much time left."

"We have plenty of time left. Believe me. I only applied for universities nearby, and if they don't work out I'll go the community college downtown." Stiles had planned this back in his freshman year, he wasn't going to leave Beacon Hills, his father, or Scott.

"Stiles, I don't want you to stay here because you're trying to please me."

"I'm not trying to please anyone. I don't want to leave town if I can avoid it, I like it here." Not only that, but Stiles was being to suspect that this werewolf thing had ruined any future he was going to have anyway. He doubted Derek would allow him or Scott to just pack up and leave town, but he really couldn't be sure. He mentally noted to ask Derek, but he was the last person Stiles wanted to see right now.

"You are a bright kid who could flourish anywhere you go. Leaving will good for you. You'll be happier once you're out of Beacon Hills." His father's eyes burned into him. "With your GPA, you could head anywhere you wanted."

Stiles returned to his food. "Well it's too late now, I've already sent out my applications and stuff."

His father sighed. "I don't want you to throw away all the opportunities life is offering you. You're going to regret it if you do."

Stiles didn't know what to say so he and his father fell into a silent spell.

Scott had told him Ms McCall had jumped on the 'your future is important' boat a few weeks ago. He should have been expecting the same from his father. But that was the least of his priorities, things were too different now. How could he tell his dad he was worried he might wolf-out at school and have no one to turn to? How would he even begin to explain the whole werewolf thing?

Stiles waited until the tension died down before he started talking again. "...Maybe we could go see a movie. I mean, not now, the only stuff playing are stupid horror movies, but after Halloween is Oscar season. It's the best time to go to the theaters."

"I like horror movies."

Stiles jokingly rolled his eyes at his father. "You would like horror movies, wouldn't you? I'm not even surprised."

"They are suspenseful and put you at the edge of your seat. And, if they're bad, they're the best kind of comedy." The tension was finally beginning to thin.

Stiles laughed. "Alright, fine. Let's go see a horror movie."

Stiles and his father finished their food and began cleaning up. Stiles watched his father wash their dishes as he put away the leftovers. He began seriously considering telling his father about the werewolf thing. The way he saw it, Jackson would tell everyone anyway. It'd be better if his father found out from the source rather than some spiteful teenager. He just had to ease him into it.

"Dad, what if those horror movies real?"

His father looked over at him. "What do mean? Like, some crazy masked axe murderer is chasing after me, real?"

"No. I mean the fantasy kind of horror, like vampires and werewolves. What would you think about that?"

His father focused back on the dirty plates. "That stuff isn't real."

"But what if it was, then what would you do?"

"I'd channel my inner Bruce Campbell and handle the problem." Stiles father laughed, and Stiles lightly smiled along with him.

"Well, I mean for real. Let's just say  _I_  was a.. I don't know, a.. vampire. What would you do?"

"Come on Stiles, those movies aren't real, they only exist as a sense of catharsis. Why would you even want to consider something like that?" His father finished with the dishes and began drying his hands.

Stiles leaned against the refrigerator, carefully watching his father's face. "Just humor me."

"Alright, fine. Well, if you were a vampire, I'd probably make you change me too." His father said shrugging. "The more the merrier."

"Oh." The statement started a chain reaction in Stiles' head. Stiles was reminded of Jackson and that problem, then that got him thinking about school and the problem with Mr. Harris. Then his mind shifted to Derek again. What was he going to say to Derek and Scott? How could he tell them he blew it?

Stiles imagined standing in front of them, admitting he'd messed up and ruined everything. He saw himself breaking down in shame and self-pity. Stiles wiped his hand over his mouth.

Why did Derek have to bite him? Stiles truly believed he was the worst candidate for this whole werewolf thing.

Stiles felt a cold heavy weight over his chest, dragging his entire body down. He felt so empty inside. Like he was in the boys' restroom again.

"Are you alright, Stiles?" His father asked, carefully studying his blank expression. His face started wrinkling again. "You look kinda sick."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just tired." Stiles said, shaking his head. His father's voice was enough to pull him out of his stupor. "I'm gonna go to sleep, alright."

"Ok. See you tomorrow."

Stiles nodded and went up to his room and laid back on his bed. He draped his arm over his eyes, shutting out all the light coming from his window. He wasn't ready for tomorrow.


	11. Part 11

PART ELEVEN

Scott smiled as Allison kissed his nose then rested her head against his shoulder. They sat together at a lunch table in the center of the cafeteria. Lost in their own private, little world.

"Can you believe we've only been together for a week?" Allison asked, slightly giggling at the end. She tightly held on to Scott's hand, she loved the warmth of his fingers intertwined with her own. It felt so comforting.

Scott shook his head. "I feel like we've been together our whole lives."

Allison agreed; Scott had become her everything. "I can't even remember what it was like before we got together."

"Why weren't we always dating?"

Allison sat up and started in on the food in front of her. She shrugged at his question. "I don't know." She looked back at him again, still smiling. "Something changed last week. I'm not sure what it was, but I'm glad that it did."

The couple exchanged glances once more, their eyes locking on to each other. Of course Scott knew exactly what had changed, but he couldn't tell her that.

Stiles, who had done his best to ignore the couple in front of him, decided to jump in and change the conversation. "So, are you going to the game tomorrow, Allison?"

Allison smiled at Stiles. "Of course. I get to see my two favorite guys play first string. It's gonna be great." Scott looked at Stiles and smiled as well.

Stiles tried to give Allison the most unforced smile he could muster. He knew she was trying to be nice, but something about her really irked him, or maybe it was that dream-like airy feeling he got from being around Scott and Allison? Whenever they were in the same room as each other they emitted that 'love at first sight' sensation,  _all the time_. It was sickening.

Maybe Stiles was bitter because he didn't feel that way over anyone? Either way, he always seemed to lose his appetite when he was around them.

Stiles looked around the cafeteria in an attempt to distract himself when Scott and Allison started whispering to each other. He had to wonder if Scott really thought he couldn't hear them. As his eyes wandered, he spotted Jackson and Danny sitting together at a lone table, away from the rest of the lacrosse team.

The team had made it very clear during the week's practices that if they didn't win tomorrow, the blame was going on Jackson. So until then, they were treating him like a leper. For reasons Stiles would never understand, all the guys agreed that their teammates' suspension was Jackson's fault and that he should have had better control over the alcohol at his party. If he had, those five guys wouldn't have gotten kicked off the team.

Stiles would have felt bad for him if he wasn't Jackson, but it was Jackson and he was still threatening to expose him if he didn't give into his demands. Though, Jackson hadn't actually done anything yet, besides give Stiles more menacing glares. So far he'd only been talk, not action.

Stiles ran a hand over his face. He had tried to gather the courage to tell Derek about his little mishap, but he couldn't do it. He had gotten to the point where he didn't even want to see Derek anymore. He hadn't seen Derek in the past couple of days. He knew he'd breakdown again if he did. Stiles felt his shame and self-disappointment begin to resurface. He took a deep breath and pushed it out of his system. He had to get through the day.

·

Jackson had barely picked at his food, lately he'd been losing his appetite. He and Danny sat opposite from each other in silence. Jackson was thankful for Danny, he was the only person on the team that wasn't trying to make him feel like shit, but he could see that yearning in Danny's eyes to be with his other friends.

"You think that if we win the game tomorrow the guys will really let this grudge go?" Jackson asked, looking up at Danny. Danny quickly glanced at the team, then back to Jackson.

"I hope so." Jackson could see the pained look in Danny's face. He knew what Danny was thinking that he was a lost cause and Jackson couldn't blame him. But something specific about the look in Danny's face signaled a red flag. He wouldn't look Jackson in the eyes.

"They haven't been giving you any crap, right?" Jackson asked, truly hoping that wasn't the case. He could take the guys bitching at him, but taking out their frustration out on Danny would be too much. He was very protective of him.

"No. It's just.. I thought I heard some of the guys saying that they want you to take a fall during the game. I think they're planning on getting you hurt tomorrow." Danny said, finally looking Jackson in the eye.

Jackson felt his heart fault, then his mind wrapped itself around what Danny was saying. His team really wanted him gone. Jackson pushed his food away and ran a hand nervously through his hair. "You don't think they'd actually let me get hurt or.."

Danny looked back at the lacrosse table again before speaking. He looked just as scared as Jackson felt. "I'll try talking to some of the guys, and see if that's even what they're planning. I could be wrong. I might've misheard them."

Jackson felt his chin begin to tremble. He hated his life. Besides Danny, there wasn't anybody else that didn't want to just take from him. His team had only wanted him for his talent. Lydia was only dating him for his popularity and social status. His parents didn't care what happened to him so long as he didn't end up in jail.

Jackson tried to compose himself and looked around the cafeteria. He spotted Stiles staring at him. He glared back at him and rose from his seat. Now he only felt anger. How dare Stiles and his stupid face look at him? He had no right he was a freak. He was some kind of  _monster_.

"Where are you going?" Danny asked, watching Jackson leave their table. Jackson ignored him and left the cafeteria.

·

After he finished his lunch, Stiles left Scott and Allison to get his backpack. He was surprised to see Danny standing besides his locker, like he was waiting for him.

"Uh, hey Danny." Stiles said, unsure how to act. They may play for the same team, but that didn't make them friends. "Did you need something?"

"No, it's just.." Stiles could feel Danny's nerves, it felt like he had put a hot/cold patch over his chest. "I think Jackson put something in your locker."

"Like what?" Stiles suspected that Danny wasn't nervous about what they were talking about, but something else.

"I don't know, maybe a piece of paper or a note. The point is, just ignore it." Danny shifted like he was going to walk away, but didn't. Instead he stayed rooted to his spot. "Jackson's going thought a really rough patch right know. I'm sure whatever he wrote, he doesn't actually mean."

Stiles scoffed as he opened up his locker. "I think Jackson means  _everything_  he says." Stiles caught the folded up paper as it fell from his locker.

"Maybe.." Danny said as Stiles turned back towards him. There was definitely something else going on. "I know this is going to sound weird, but if you know that some of the guys on the team are planning something I hope that you would try to stop them. I know you're not a bad guy. You're kind of strange sometimes, but you're not cruel."

"What are talking about?" Stiles had no idea what was going on, and Danny wasn't making any sense.

Danny sighed. Stiles could sense some of his frustration. "Are the guys planning something against Jackson?"

"I don't know, I hardly talk to anybody on the team." Stiles said examining Danny's face. Now things were starting to click together. "Do you think some of the guys want to hurt him?"

"I don't know." Danny leaned against his back against the row of lockers. Stiles suddenly felt immense sympathy for Jackson, like he needed to protect him as well.

"Danny, I really don't know anything. I'm sorry I can't help." Stiles put his hand on Danny's shoulder, but quickly drew it back. The contact amplified his emotions. Stiles felt like it was Scott who was at risk of getting hurt.

It felt awful.

Danny stood up straight and repositioned his backpack. "It's fine, I'll figure something out."

As Danny walked away Stiles felt himself relax. He didn't care about Jackson anymore, he couldn't care less if Jackson got injured. Stiles shut his locker and unfolded the paper Jackson had left for him.

In sloppy, rushed handwriting the paper read:

**Give me what I want by the game tomorrow or I'll expose you and Scott**

Stiles groaned, he wasn't scared or intimated by the note, just annoyed. He crumpled up the paper and shoved it in his pocket. Now he had no choice but to tell Derek about this. Maybe  _he_  could scare Jackson into keeping his mouth shut? At this point, Stiles was too annoyed to even worry about how Derek might react. He wanted Jackson out of his face.

·

After lacrosse practice Allison met Scott by her car. They were still there after everyone else had left the campus.

"So, I was thinking we could celebrate our one week anniversary by going to the same restaurant where we had our first date." Allison said, grabbing Scott's hand.

Scott smiled back at her. "That sounds great." Scott heard his phone ring from his backpack. He checked his messages, there was only a text from Stiles.

_Emergency meeting in the woods_

Scott bit his lip, he would much rather spend his night with Allison. He heard another little beep and looked at his screen again. There was another message from Stiles

_Be there in 15 minutes_

Scott rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Allison asked, slightly tugging at his hand.

"I just remembered that I already promised Stiles he and I would hang out tonight. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. It's fine." Allison let go of his hand and kissed his cheek. "The last thing I want to do is get in between you and Stiles. You guys are best friends, that has so much more leeway over our one week anniversary. Don't even worry about it, we'll have next week to celebrate."

Scott smiled at Allison. "You are literally the best girlfriend ever."

Allison playful shrugged. "Yeah, I guess I am." She bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile. "So do you want a ride to his house?"

"Um, no. He's coming to pick me up." Scott scratched the side of his head, he felt uncomfortable lying to Allison.

"Okay. Do you want me to wait with you?" Allison asked crossing her arms, she couldn't understand why he was acting so peculiar.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay." Allison hugged Scott and kissed his cheek again before driving off.

Once Scott was sure she was gone he took off running, keeping himself as well hidden as possible. Sticking to dark alleys and trees for cover.

·

Stiles couldn't take the look on Derek's face. It was a mixture of anger and disappointment. He knew he should have waited until Scott showed up, but once he was in front of Derek the truth had spilled out.

When Scott encountered the strange scene, Stiles was leaning against a tree staring down at the ground while Derek had his arms crossed and was glaring. For the first time Scott could physically feel the tension between them.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked, instinctively moving to Stiles side. He wished he had gotten there sooner, he didn't like the way Derek was looking at Stiles. Scott put his hand on Stiles' shoulder. He could feel his shame."What happened?"

Stiles tilted his head up higher, his face looked pained. "I messed up Scott. Jackson saw me shift. He knows about us now."

Scott tightened his grip on Stiles' shoulder, trying to reassure him. "It's okay. It's not that big a deal."

"What are you talking about? Of course it's a big deal." Derek said, angrily jumping back into the conversation. "He exposed us to some kid."

"I didn't mean to. He cornered me and I freaked out." Stiles said looking at Derek, trying to defend himself. "And he only knows about Scott and me,  _you're_  still in the clear."

"So long as he knows there are werewolves in Beacon Hills, none of us are 'in the clear'. He could be a hunter or know who the hunters are." Derek resumed brooding against the tree and feel silent for a moment, giving Scott a chance to speak.

Scott removed his hand from Stiles' shoulder. Then he addressed only Stiles. "How does he know about me?"

Stiles turned towards Scott. The look on his face was as genuine as they come. "He figured it out and I couldn't deny it. I'm really sorry, Scott."

"You know, it's not just that you exposed us," Derek said, moving in closer to Stiles. "You lied to me. You looked me in the eye and told me that nobody saw you shift. How am I supposed to trust either of you?  _And_ you refused to pledge your loyalty to me." Derek looked at both Stiles and Scott. " _Both_ of you refused to pledge your loyalty to me then something like this happens. And where were you Scott? How could _you_ let this happen?"

"Don't blame Scott for this, it was my fault and I'm sorry." Stiles said. Scott thought he might have missed something by the way the other two looked at each other. He could see the sincere regret in Stiles' eyes and the betrayed looked on Derek's face. "I got nervous and didn't know what to do.. I didn't want to disappoint you."

Scott wrapped his arm around Stiles. He wanted to soothe his pain and make it go away.

Stiles looked at Scott again. "It was after tryouts. When I was leaving the locker room, Jackson followed me out and started accusing us of taking drugs and steroids. Then he said he was going to ruin my dad's reputation and get him fired. I got nervous and couldn't control myself."

Scott looked at Derek, his arm still securely wrapped around Stiles. "What are we going to do?"

Stiles pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Scott. "Jackson left this in my locker."

Scott read the note. "He wants the bite? Why?"

"He's crazy." Stiles said shrugging. Scott laughed, making Stiles smile.

Derek started walking away from the two teens. "I'll handle it."

"What are you going to do?" Stiles asked. Derek silently looked back at the pair, his eyes shifting from Stiles to Scott and back, but continued on his way.

Scott and Stiles watched him until he was out of sight. They were silent until they were sure he was gone.

Scott took his arm away from Stiles and turned towards him. "What do you think he's gonna do to Jackson?"

Stiles crossed his arms as well. "I don't know, but I hope it's painful."

"I hope so too. It'd be pretty nice to see Jackson at school with a broken nose or a black eye."

Stiles sighed and ran a hand over his face. "How mad at me do you think he is?" Stiles asked, referring to Derek. "On a scale of one to ten, ten being Derek wanting to kill me in cold blood."

Scott laughed. "Probably a nine."

"Yeah, nine sounds about right."

"..I shouldn't have you left you after the tryouts." Scott started as he moved around and settled on leaning against the same tree as Stiles. They were shoulder-to-shoulder. "I shouldn't have left you to celebrate with Allison, you and I hadn't even celebrated yet and I totally ditched you."

"Scott..."

"Have I been spending too much time with Allison lately?" Scott asked, turning towards Stiles. He needed an honest answer. "I have been, haven't I ?"

Stiles let his head fall forward. "I already said this isn't your fault Scott."

"Yeah, but I should have been there to back you up, or help, or do something."

Stiles sighed. "I'm tired, lets go home."

Scott stood, glued to his spot, looking at Stiles. "I've been a terrible friend to you Stiles."

"Scott, you don't have to..."

"No. I'm going to make more time for us to hang out, alright. I'm going to make it up to you."

Stiles sighed, but smiled. "Alright." He knew that Scott meant what he said,  _right now_ , but the moment he saw Allison things would go back to how they'd been.

Scott patted Stiles' back as they walked to Stiles jeep besides the road. "You know, I think Derek's only gonna hurt Jackson a little bit. Maybe break a couple of fingers, but that's it."

"Just as long as he leaves his face alone."

Scott took a slight pause in his step. "You don't still—"

"No. I meant that if something very visible or out of the ordinary happened to Jackson people would start to ask questions.. It's not like  _that_ anymore."

"Oh.. Are you sure?" Stiles nodded as they reached his jeep. "Did your window breaking have something to do with Jackson?"

Stiles sighed as he sat in the driver's seat. "Yeah, I tried to punch him, but I missed."

Scott laughed. "How did you miss? His ego is so big it literally doubles the size of his head."

Stiles laughed with him, starting up his car. "Well, Jackson's like a snake. He slithered away when I tried to get him."


	12. Part 12

PART TWELVE

Jackson walked up to his room as loudly as he could with the utmost disregard to his sleeping parents. He knew they wouldn't wake up anyway; they were so addicted to Ambien they wouldn't know if they'd been robbed until they woke up at precisely 5:30 the next morning.

As Jackson wandered into his room he pulled off his shirt and turned on the lights. He walked up to his mirror and stared at himself. He wanted to take another shower, he still felt dirty from lacrosse practice. More in the metaphorical sense than the literal.

He turned to his side to get a better view of his back and his large developing bruise. He lightly pressed his fingers against his dark purplish skin. He winced at the pain, but kept applying the pressure. He wanted to see how much he could take. He eventually removed his hand when it all became too much.

At practice he'd slipped on the wet grass and one of the guys just so happened to accidentally trip right besides him and kick the back of his ribs. Jackson took a deep breath and could still feel the pain. He had another bruise on the inside of his thigh from practice the other day. He'd been kneeling down, trying to fix his sock when one of the guys ran into him, stomping all over his body. At this point Jackson wasn't sure why he point up with this shit. He knew he should just quit the team.

Jackson looked at his face in the reflection. He noticed a little bit of dirt near his hairline and brushed it away. He had to take another shower, a very quick one. He looked at the small digital clock bedsides his bed it was already 10.

When Jackson came back to his bedroom he changed into a soft t-shirt and sweat pants. He plopped down on his bed, belly first and closed his eyes. He had almost fallen asleep when he heard rustling by his bed. Jackson turned back and saw a young man staring him down. Jackson quickly crawled back, hitting his bedroom wall as he tried to get away.

"What the hell are you doing in my house? How'd you get in here?" Jackson asked, unsure of what to say. The man looked somewhat familiar though, like Jackson had seen him somewhere before. "Who are you?"

"I'm Derek. Derek Hale." Derek said looking around the room. He'd been so focused on sneaking in that he hadn't actually taken the time to look around. The house was nice, it reminded him of his home growing up. "I used to live around here a few years ago."

"Hale? Like that guy that burned his house down with his family still inside?" Jackson said, trying to intimidate Derek.

Derek quickly approached Jackson and grabbed him by the collar. "Do you really want to be a jackass right now?"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please put me down." Jackson said, begging at this point. The way Derek had grabbed him had twisted his body right around his bruise. Jackson felt pain course through his chest and his eyes watered. His shut his eyes and his face scrunched up. He tried to put his hands up to push Derek away, it his body told him that'd only lead to more problems and didn't let him.

Derek felt Jackson tremble in his grasp. He had a hard time believing this was the kid Stiles felt so intimidated of. He released Jackson and let him fall back against the bed. "I heard you were threatening Stiles because you wanted in our pack."

Jackson looked up at Derek, his eyes glossed over. "Are you the one who did something to Scott and Stiles? Are you like them?" Derek nodded. Jackson's gaze intensified. "I want to be like you guys, please. I'll do anything if you make me like you guys."

"Why should I give you the bite? What will you be worth to me?" Derek glared down at Jackson, crossing his arms. "You do realize that if I wanted to, I could kill you, right? I could tear you apart limb by limb. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"Please, Derek I swear I'll do anything to be like you guys. Please. I promise I won't tell anyone, and I'll even pay you if you want money. Just name your price and I'll get it." Derek continued to look down at Jackson, examining his desperate expression. The sincerity in his eyes told Derek he meant what he'd said.

"Okay. I'll change you."

Jackson let out an audible sigh of relief. "Yes! Thank you." He jumped off of his bed and stood close to Derek. "How much do you want? I can probably get most of it now." He tried to remember where he'd left his wallet.

"I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?" The first thing his mind thought of was payment of some kind of sexual gratification.

"I want your loyalty."

Jackson's face scrunched up again, he didn't understand what Derek was talking about. "What do you mean?" The idea of sexual gratification was still in his mind.

Derek gave Jackson a small smirk before heading towards his door. "Come on, we only have so much time to do this."

·

Jackson immediately regretted not grabbing a jacket before leaving his house, but he figured that Derek wouldn't have given him a chance to do so anyway. He was making it hard enough for Jackson to follow him into the woods. Jackson didn't understand how Derek could walk so quickly with taking a breather.

The pair weaved around trees and didn't stop until they reached a clearing about 20 minutes from Jackson's house. Jackson felt small beads of sweat form at his brow. His body was awkwardly heating up in the cold weather.

"So, how do we do this?" Jackson asked. He shook partly out of nerves and from the chilly breeze blowing past the trees. "It's not a sex thing, right?"

Derek shushed Jackson and carefully listened to the environment around them. He still hadn't answered Jackson's question.

"What are you doing?" Jackson asked. His could see his breath out in front of him. Then a cynical thought crossed into the threshold of his mind. "This isn't some kind of post-Halloween prank, is it? You are legitimately some kind of monster thing like Scott and Stiles, right?"

"We're werewolves and if you want to join us, you should shut your mouth and just stand there quietly." Derek said. Then he heard the noise he'd been waiting for.

Jackson stood in shock as he watched Derek run off. He wasn't sure what had happened, but it seemed pretty awesome. He stood in place waiting, and then the cold breeze went by again. Jackson tried to control his chattering teeth, but he knew he couldn't stay outside much longer. He was about to turn back to his house, but he heard a noise.

In the distance he could hear Derek running back.

When Derek came back in sight, Jackson saw mass amounts of blood stained on his t-shirt. Jackson ran his eyes over Derek fully examining him. Blood dripped from his hands down to the floor, pooling around his feet. Then the distinct coppery smell hit his nostrils.

"What did you do?" Jackson asked, taking a tentative step back. He crossed his arms and glared at Derek. He wasn't playing this game anymore, Derek had to turn him  _now_  or he was getting the hell out of there.

"Come with me." Derek said, extending a blood soaked hand to guide him.

"No! God, answer the question, why do you have blood all over you? What did you do? You weren't even gone that long." Jackson felt his heartbeat increase and his breathing began to shallow. He had too many thoughts racing in his head to fully comprehend the situation. Something in his gut told him Derek had murdered somebody. All the rumors were true, Derek Hale was a deranged lunatic and Jackson had fallen for his stupid lie. There weren't any werewolves, just a crazy man who was probably going to kill him too.

But what about Scott and Stiles? Jackson had seen Stiles change into some kind of monster. He seen it with his own two eyes, Derek couldn't have had anything to do with that. No, there was definitely something going on.

Jackson groaned and rubbed a hand over his forehead. His mind was too muddled and he was too fucking cold. He felt himself shiver again.

"If you want to be one of us, you have to pledge your loyalty. Now follow me."

"No. You don't get to make the calls here."

"I get to do whatever I want." Derek said moving closer to Jackson. Jackson felt himself step back in fear. "This is your last chance Jackson. You can back out now and go home. You can pretend none of this ever happened and go back to your unsatisfying life, or you can follow me and join my pack."

Jackson tried one last time to stand up for himself. "My life isn't unsatisfying, you don't know me. You have no idea what my life is like." Even he didn't believe what he was saying.

"I know exactly what your life is like Jackson. Everybody looks at you and sees this spoiled little brat who's grown up with vast amounts of money. Everybody looks at you and thinks you are so happy in your perfect little life, but you're not. Your life sucks and nobody likes you. They may say they do, but they don't. Deny it all you want, but I saw those bruises on your body and I've seen the way your team treats out on the field. You could drop dead on the field and they wouldn't care. I bet you wouldn't care either."

Jackson wasn't shivering anymore he didn't feel cold. He didn't feel anything right now, besides a sudden admiration for Derek. Derek was right about everything.

Derek could sense his speech was working so he continued on. "I only want to help you Jackson. I want to give you the opportunity to feel safe with people, to make you feel like you belong. You'll have that in my pack."

Jackson nodded at Derek. He couldn't have said anything if he had wanted to.

Derek lightly grabbed Jackson by the arm, smearing blood on his gray t-shirt. He led him down some way and past a few trees. There Jackson saw the source of all the blood on Derek's arms. A small doe lay on the ground, her spine broken and her chest torn open.

Jackson pulled away from Derek grasp and moved closer to the animal. He kneeled down in front of her and ran his hand over her fur, his eyes avoiding the gaping hole in her chest. Her body still felt warm, warmer than the air around them. Jackson examined her face. The doe's small little beady eyes stared up at him, eating her way through him.

"We only have so much time before this doesn't work." Derek started, watching Jackson pet the dead deer. "You have to consume her heart on sacred ground, like a burial site, but it has to be down around midnight. We only have a few minutes."

"Is this a burial site?" Jackson asked. He was able to gain his voice back, but his eyes remained on the doe.

Derek quietly answered yes.

Jackson looked up at Derek then at the moon. He didn't know what time it was, but a feeling in his gut told him now was the moment. If he wanted to be a part of the pack this was his chance.

Derek watched Jackson dig into the animal's body and pull out her organs. He watched the teen gag his way through the smell and pull out her heart. When Jackson took his first bite he looked up at Derek and the connection was made. Derek smiled down at him. He had his first loyal beta.

·

Scott felt himself turn over in his sleep. He body was beginning to feel restless. He opened his eyes and looked around his room. His sight was still a little blurry but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Scott ran a hand over his hair then rubbed at his eyes.

His phone starting ringing on the table beside his bed, Scott picked it up and after a few struggles and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hey, Scott." It was Stiles. " Sorry to wake you up."

"Nah, it's fine. I was already awake." Scott yawned as he spoke.

"Okay, cool. I'm sorry that I'm calling, but I just woke up and I got this really weird feeling." Scott could hear Stiles tap his fingers against the back of the cell phone.

"I just woke up with a weird feeling too. Like something's… changed."

"Yeah, exactly." Stiles said. Scott heard a loud creak over the phone, like Stiles had decided to sit up. "I think Derek has something to do with this. I think this is a werewolf thing."

Scott stayed silent a moment, he was starting to suspect the same thing. "Yeah, this is definitely a werewolf thing, but what is it?"

"Maybe we should go out to the woods?"

"No." Scott said. He stood from his bed and looked out the window, frost was beginning to form at his window. "It's too cold outside."

"Come on Scott." Stiles said. He walked over to his own window and surveyed his backyard. "...Well, maybe it is too cold."

"Maybe Derek's summoning us again?"

Stiles sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, he looked at the clock beside his bed, it was barely one in the morning. He knew he should go back to sleep before it got too late. "We did say we'd ignore him if he tried again."

"Exactly." Scott said going back to his bed. Stiles could hear him crawl back underneath his blanket. "We should just go back to sleep."

"I don't think I can."

Scott sighed. "Me neither."

They stayed silent on both their ends.

"So, I'll see you at school tomorrow." Scott said, trying to end the conversation. He may not be able to fall back asleep, but he wanted to lay back and relax on his own. Scott was beginning to see how weird things were getting lately. He and Stiles weren't spending as much time together anymore, by some miracle in the world he had a girlfriend, and he was a werewolf. Who would have thought?

"Yeah. Lets just hope Jackson doesn't hold up on his threat."

"Oh, yeah Jackson.. I forgot about that." Scott began rubbing at his face again. The last thing he wanted to think about was Jackson. "Maybe Derek handled it?"

"I hope so. I'll see you later."

"Yeah."

They mutually hung up.

Stiles laid back on his bed. Now that Jackson was back in his head, he thought about the game. If what Danny said was true about the guys wanting to hurt Jackson that would explain his sudden insistence on getting the bite. Jackson wanted some kind of protection.

Stiles groaned and hit his head back against his pillow. He didn't want to go to school tomorrow, but he never wanted to go to school any day. High school sucked.

Stiles stayed up the rest of the night contemplating just how much high school sucked until his thoughts progressed to Derek. He stared up at his ceiling, his back against his mattress and his hand lightly rubbing over his stomach. Stiles hated thinking about Derek, so he closed his eyes and tried to imagine Lydia.

Lately he'd given up trying to get off on the thought of her, but he thought he'd try once more. Stiles ran his hand over his sweat pants. He forced himself to see long red hair and soft pale skin looking down at him. He practically beat his dick to life, but it didn't work.

His mind floated back around to Derek's image, his smile in particular, and he got off on that. He thought of what it would feel like to have Derek run his hand over his arm and maybe even his chest. He wanted to feel Derek push up against him and kiss his neck.

Stiles rolled on to his side and went again. He eventually passed out from exhaustion.


	13. Part 13

PART THIRTEEN

Jackson walked into the school feeling like a badass. He strutted down the empty hallways smiling to himself. He was sure today would be a good day. No, he was sure today would be the greatest day of his life and the beginning of many more.

After getting the bite from Derek, Jackson had passed out and ended up sleeping through his first two classes. When he woke up in the woods he felt unearthly. Not like he'd become a different person per se, but like he'd evolved. Even as he wiped the dirt and twigs off his body, he relished in his new self. He was a werewolf now, with enhanced strength and a keen sense of smell. Nothing was going to bring him down, and the game after school was going to be the icing on the cake. He planned on showing those guys exactly who they were fucking with.

Jackson walked into the chemistry room and sat next to Stiles at the lab table besides Scott's. This evoked rather unsettled reactions. He held the element of surprise over them. They hadn't a clue.

"So, boys, how's it going lately?" Jackson asked smirking. Derek had told him that his loyalty would give him rank over the other two and he could feel his superior status just being near them. He knew they could feel it too. Jackson wanted to stand from his seat, just so he could look down at them. He begrudgingly remained seated.

Scott and Stiles turned to each other and exchanged worried glances. They weren't necessarily aware of the situation, but they did feel the strange atmosphere around Jackson. It made them uneasy, to the point where he couldn't even speak, but eventually Scott worked up the courage.

"What are you doing, Jackson?" Scott asked, wary of his word choice.

"What do mean?" Jackson asked, putting a fake confused look on his face and leaning forward in his seat. This was all a game to him now.

"He means, why are you sitting with us?" Stiles reiterated. He turned his body to face Jackson. Both Stiles and Scott glared at Jackson. Whatever the sensation they felt emanating off of Jackson was too much. They almost felt like they were sitting with Derek, but something wasn't right. As if Jackson were some cheap knockoff.

"Come on guys, we're all in the same pack. We should try to get along. It'll make life a lot easier." Jackson said, lowering his voice so only they could hear. He was eating up the looks on their faces when he spoke. For a moment he thought Stiles might actually cry.

"No. Derek wouldn't bite you. He'd never let someone like you in the pack." Stiles said, but his voice was shaky and he couldn't even fool himself. Both he and Scott knew Jackson was telling the truth.

"Well, he did. You guys probably don't know him as well as you think you do. He was more than happy to give it to me. He almost seemed desperate to have me." Jackson said with a final condescending grin before getting up and taking the empty spot beside Danny.

Scott and Stiles turned to face each other again.

"You don't think that Derek would really do that, do you?" Stiles asked. Scott could see the blatant pain coursing through him. "I mean, it's Jackson,  _nobody_  wants Jackson to be a part of anything."

"I don't know what Derek would do. Think about it Stiles, we don't know anything about Derek." Scott said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. "For all we know, he's been planning this the entire time."

"Then we have to go talk him, or  _something_." Stiles said, the panic in his voice was beginning to manifest deeper. His entire body showed signs of stress and anxiety. He wanted nothing to do with Jackson if he could avoid him. "He said he would  _handle_  this, not put him in the pack."

"I know." Scott said, putting his hand on Stiles shoulder, trying to shush him. They simultaneously turned back to see Jackson still smirking at them. He could hear everything they were saying. He winked at them before returning to his conversation with Danny.

Allison walked into the room and took the seat next to Scott. She noticed Scott and Stiles exchanging a last set of worried glances. She tapped Scott's arm to get his attention. "What's wrong?"

Scott quickly smiled at and said, "Nothing," before focusing on Mr. Harris as he spoke to their class. Allison didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to question him about it.

·

As soon as school was over, Scott and Stiles left the campus and drove out to the woods. Stiles had texted Derek about needing an emergency meeting of some sort. They could only hope he'd actually show up.

The pair leaned against Stiles' jeep, anxiously awaiting his arrival.

"Are you sure he'll show up?" Stiles asked. Every since the last pack meeting he wasn't too sure on his and Derek's standing. Not that Stiles cared or anything. It wasn't as if he'd spent the night thinking of ways to beg for Derek's forgiveness.

Stiles felt his chest heat up when he thought about what he'd actually done last night. He wiped his hand over his mouth, he breathing was beginning to shallow.

"He'll show up." Scott said, casually checking his phone. He'd been texting Allison since the ride over. She was wishing him luck on the game in a few hours.

"How do you know that?" Stiles asked, running his hand over his head. He was trying to keep himself under control, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult what with the game and Jackson's general existence. Everything was so stressful.

"Because  _you_  texted him." Scott said, looking up from his phone and smiling at Stiles.

"Shut up." Stiles said, glaring at him.

"I'm being serious, Stiles." Scott dead panned, still looking at him.

"Yeah, I know you are, and it freaks me out."

Scott continued to laugh. "Oh, and Allison is wishing us 'good luck' on the game."

"Seriously Scott? You should be mentally preparing to give an interrogation, not texting Allison." Stiles said. He began pacing. "I'm sure she can wait."

Scott frowned as he returned to his phone. He wasn't about to make Allison wait.

Stiles crossed his arms and leaned back against his jeep again. They waited a bit longer before they heard rustling, signaling Derek's arrival, but he wasn't alone. Jackson walked by his side, looking just as smug as he had during school.

"Are you guys ready for the game?" Jackson asked, clapping his hands together. He was purposefully trying to antagonize them. "I sure am."

Derek ignored him and looked at the other two boys. "As you both already know, Jackson's a part of the pack. He's my head beta now."

Jackson continued to smirk. "And it feels  _fucking_  great."

"'Head beta'? I thought Scott and I were your 'head betas'?" Stiles asked. He felt like there was a weight sitting on top of his chest. Derek wasn't looking at him like he usually did. In fact, he was purposefully avoiding his eyes.

"His loyalty lowers your rank." Derek said, still not looking at Stiles.

"You said you were going to  _handle_  the problem." Scott said, jumping into the conversation while trying to ignore the look Jackson was giving him. " _This_  isn't handling anything."

"Jackson was never the problem. Not really." Derek said, staring at Scott, but quickly glancing at Stiles. The look had a calming affect. It was quick, but Stiles knew Derek wasn't mad at him anymore. "Our problem is the BHHA. So long as they are at large, we need as many people in the pack as possible."

"The BHHA?" Stiles asked incredulously. He was taken aback by the insinuation that the Beacon Hills hunting association was up to no good. "You mean the association  _my father_  is a part of? Last time I checked he wasn't hunting werewolves as game. He doesn't even believe in that kind of stuff."

Derek looked at Stiles. "It's their cover. They have to let anybody join so they don't draw attention to themselves. So yes, there are a few innocents in the group, but most of them aren't."

Scott stepped closer to Derek to add his piece. "Derek, you can't just go around biting people and putting them in your pack."

"He can if they're willing." Jackson said, looking to Derek for approval. Derek didn't acknowledge him.

"The BHHA has  _at least_  a 150 active people registered. If you bite anyone who wants 'in', you're bound to wind up with someone with direct ties to the group." Scott said, staring straight at Derek. Scott felt this sudden burst of confidence, like he could prove Derek wrong.

Stiles, who had been surprised with Scott's deduction, agreed with him. "He's right."

Jackson looked at Derek to see his reaction, but he only frowned at Stiles instead. The look made Stiles shift his eyes downward. "I know the risks."

"Then why take them?" Scott asked. Stiles looked up and stared at him, completely taken back by the way he seamlessly challenged Derek. He respected Scott for his courage, but deep inside of him he wished Scott would stop. Something told Stiles to agree with Derek. Derek  _had_ to be right, he was his alpha.

Jackson stayed silent. He still stood by Derek, but he could see what Scott meant. Derek hadn't gone into specifics, but he did warn him about hunters in town that would kill the pack if they discovered their identities. He remembered Derek also saying to be wary of anybody he trusts, as they may have ties to the hunters.

Stiles could feel the tension surmounting to unfathomable levels when Derek took a few steps towards Scott, almost closing the gap between them. "Are you trying to challenge me Scott."

Stiles and Jackson both held in a breath as they watched Scott pause. Stiles tried to help by gently resting his hand on Scott's shoulder, lightly pulling him back. "Scott..."

Scott shook his hand off and continued to stand his ground. He took a few more seconds to weigh out his options before taking a step back and putting his head down. "No."

"Good." Derek said, still staring straight at Scott. After a moment he averted his gaze and rested it upon Stiles and Jackson. "I want you two to drive back to school and get ready for your sports game."

The two nodded and walked back to their respectful cars. Scott followed behind Stiles.

Once they were alone and back on the main road, Stiles had to ask what the hell had happened. "Scott, were you trying to challenge Derek?"

Just the thought of Scott trying to challenge Derek gave Stiles an odd taste in his mouth. It just wasn't right. He didn't want Derek to be challenged.

"No. I mean, I didn't mean to. I don't know, maybe I was challenging him?"

"Well, it seemed like that was exactly what you were doing, and it really seemed like you meant it." Stiles said almost laughing. "It was kind of badass, though." He said, only half meaning it.

"It was weird." Scott said, running his hands over his face. "It felt right. Like I had to do it."

"That is weird, but you know,  _you're_  pretty weird."

"Allison doesn't think so." Scott said, smiling to himself.

"And so the Allison talk begins."

"Oh, come on. You kinda owe me now anyway."

"How does that work?" Stiles asked, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to look at Scott.

"Derek's so pissed at me right now, he probably doesn't even care that you shifted in front of Jackson." Scott said. Stiles nodded along, he had a point. Stiles had felt Derek's anger and it was all projected towards Scott.

The pair stayed silent for a while, until the idea of Jackson being a part of the pack cycled back to Stiles' head. It was a painful thought. Not even his worse nightmares were as bad as this.

"I still can't believe Derek bit Jackson." Stiles said, gripping the steering wheel just a little but tighter. "I hope he tasted awful."

"He probably did." Scott said, an amused look on his face, 'aggravated Stiles' was his favorite kind of Stiles. "But Derek probably liked the bad taste."

Stiles rolled his eyes at the thought of Derek wrapping his mouth around any part of Jackson's body. The idea pissed him off more. "Well, at least we don't have to watch over Jackson at the game. I'm sure he's more than excited to take care of himself."

"No." Scott said, turning towards Stiles. His expression turned somber. "This means we have to keep an even closer eye on him. He could shift at any moment during the game, and if he's already pissed at the guys on the field he'll try to murder everybody."

Stiles groaned. "What the hell was Derek thinking?"

"Probably that we'd watch over him."

"We are not going to babysit Jackson. Derek made him,  _he_  should have to watch over his little 'head beta'."

"Yeah, try telling him that." Scott said sarcastically.

Stiles looked to Scott. "What are we going to do?"

Scott shrugged. "We can't let him play."

"And how are we going stop him?"

Scott shrugged again. "We can just kinda wing it, and hope it goes well." Stiles looked out at the road as he sighed.

·

Before the game started coach Finstock gathered the team in the locker room to give his standard 'lets go team' speech, courtesy of any given B-film that was on the previous night. Scott and Stiles searched through the sea of male teenage faces and eventually spotted Jackson hanging around the back of the room, a good distance away from the majority of the team.

Past the feelings of enthusiasm and excitement, Stiles could feel Jackson's anger building, like he was harnessing it for the game. Stiles gave Scott a worried glance. Scott quickly looked back at Jackson and returned the expression. They still hadn't thought of a plan.

The moment Finstock finished his speech, Jackson bolted out of the room. Scott and Stiles were ready to chase after him, but Danny put his hand down on Stiles' shoulder, effectively catching his attention. He felt a rush of immense desperation from the other teen.

"Stiles I need you to help me." Danny whispered, he looked up and down the row of lockers, wary of their other teammates. "Coach won't let me out from the goal post, so I need someone to watch Jackson's back."

Stiles was ready to tell Danny he would, but a plan popped into Scott's head before he had a chance to speak. Scott walked closer to Danny. "Hey Danny, if you weren't playing goalie, who'd take your place?"

Danny took his hand off Stiles' shoulder. He crossed his arms considering Scott's question. "Well, we're playing Mission Fault and they're pretty good. So I guess the only person who could stand a chance of catching the ball before it hits the net would be Jackson. Plus he was goalie freshman year when the team took State. He's probably the only other person besides me that Coach Finstock would trust."

Danny and Scott locked eyes and they smiled at one another. Stiles caught on as well.

"If you don't play, then Jackson will take your place." Scott said, still smiling.

Stiles added on, "If Jackson's playing goalie, that'll take him out of the hustle and bustle of the game. He'll be all alone at the goal post."

Danny's smile widened. "I think this could work.. But if Finstock asks, I got sick or something." He quickly rummaged through his locker grabbing a change of clothes before running out of the locker room, completely unnoticed. Most of the guys were busy adjusting their gear or chatting about some upcoming event.

Scott turned towards Stiles, his had an almost cocky grin. "So, I guess that solves that problem."

Stiles crossed his arm and sat down on the bench separating the rows of lockers. He looked up at Scott, a smile on his face. This had been too simple. "Now all we have to is keep the game on the other side of the field and we're set."

"That'll be easy." Scott said, leaning against the lockers.

·

Scott was right. It was too easy.

When Danny went 'missing', Finstock had no choice but to make Jackson goalie for the entirety of the game. Then Scott completely dominated the game, earning seven points before the opposing team scored their first, while Stiles did his best to keep the players away from Jackson's goal post.

As Scott showed off, Stiles felt Jackson's animosity increasing, but it never accumulated to anything. Stiles couldn't understand how Jackson kept himself calm enough to resist the shift. In a sense, he was barely a day old. He shouldn't know how to control his emotions.

When about three fourths of the game had completed and Stiles stood on the field focusing on Scott's complete domination of the game, he sensed Derek nearby. He looked out to the crowd and saw him standing behind the bleaches. His focus was solely on Jackson. Stiles quickly glanced at the goal post. Jackson was staring back Derek.

It was like a light bulb had lit up in Stiles head, slowing down everything around him. Whatever pledging entailed, it had created a bond between Jackson and Derek. With just a glance a werewolf would be at their alpha's mercy. Maybe Scott was right to oppose Derek? What kind of person would want this kind of control over another?

Stiles' eyes shifted back to Derek.

No. He felt in his gut that Derek was a good person. Stiles focused back on the game. He didn't want to think about how fucked up this werewolf loyalty thing might be.

·

After the game Stiles' father found him before he headed to the locker room. He gave him an excuse to miss Coach Finstock's post game celebratory speech.

"Stiles you were great out there." His father said, wrapping an arm around him. "Scott too. I had no idea he could play so well."

"Yeah." Stiles said, looking through the crowd climbing down the bleachers until he spotted Derek. "Hey dad, some of the guys want to go out for dinner, so I'll see you at home."

"Alright." His father said, patting Stiles' back. Stiles missed the funny look his father gave him before he walked off.

Stiles found Derek away from the crowd of parents and students; his hands in his pockets. He was looking off to side away from the field. He looked up when he heard Stiles coming his way.

"Hi." Stiles said, trying to start a conversation as normally as possible. It was proving more difficult than he'd first assumed.

Derek stared at him before speaking back. He'd expected Jackson to find him after the game. "Hi."

Stiles stood beside Derek looking at the field. "So, you saw the entire game, right?"

"Yeah. I was here." Derek said. He turned towards Stiles. "I had to be sure Jackson wouldn't shift during the game. I don't need him exposing us too."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I already apologized about that," he looked at Derek as he spoke. "Can't you let it go?"

Derek smirked at him. "I'll try."

Stiles looked back out at the field again. He was the slightest bit aggravated by Derek's inability to take him seriously. "Well from the way Jackson tells it, you were ecstatic to have him in the pack anyway." Stiles sneered at Derek. "So I'm waiting for my thanks."

Derek dropped his expression and narrowed his eyes at Stiles. "I did what I had to."

"And you  _had_  to bite Jackson? I mean, come on! Jackson Whittemore is probably the most obnoxious little fuck in town, you couldn't have seriously thought bringing him in was a good idea?" Stiles tried to hold himself back, but wasn't able to. "I hate Jackson. And I mean it, I completely despise him. He is probably the worst, cruelest person I've ever met in my entirely life. His own parents didn't show up for the game."

"The idea is to build the pack." Derek said, almost raising his voice at Stiles. He took a pause to collect himself. It gave Stiles a moment of petty satisfaction. "Jackson saw you shift, I wasn't left with any other options. I had to bite him. If I didn't he could've started telling people about you. Besides, 'a bigger pack is a stronger pack'."

"Who says that?" Stiles asked, closely watching Derek's face.

Derek looked out at the field, his eyes drifting from there to the school building. "I've heard that my entire life. They feed phrases like that to children in wolf packs."

"You grew up in a pack?"

Derek nodded, looking at Stiles. "It was mostly of my family and a few others. The number always varied, but there were never less than ten of us at once."

"So Scott and I aren't enough?" Stiles asked. He hadn't meant to sound so insecure, but it came naturally to the question.

"There's a war coming. More hunters are showing up in town, and if we want to survive I need to build up the pack. Even with Jackson we're still not big enough, and you and Scott still aren't loyal to me.."

"Does that make a difference? Scott and I are still in the pack."

"Pledging your loyalty creates a stronger bond between the pack. With loyalties our strength increases."

"But I saw the way you looked at Jackson. It was that bond that stopped him from shifting, but he acted like a zombie. I could tell he was angry, but he couldn't show it. He even missed the ball a couple of times." The prospect of pledging to become some kind of puppet terrified Stiles. He trusted Derek, but he couldn't let him hold his personality in his hands.

"I'm sure he only missed because he was pissed off that you and Scott somehow got him to play goalie." Derek smiled to himself, rubbing his foot against the dirt and grass on the ground. Jackson's obvious discontent had given him an unexpected amount of pleasure during the game. It wasn't very much, but it was better than watching a lacrosse game alone. "But next time, tell Scott to tone it down. Winning a game almost singlehandedly is a little too extraordinary."

Stiles didn't reply to Derek, but instead asked a question. "You're still gonna bite more people, aren't you?" Stiles fell silent immediately afterwards. He couldn't keep his eyes on Derek.

"I'm doing what I have to." Derek said, but he could tell Stiles was still on the fence about the gaining more pack mates. "I'm only going to bite those who are willing. I wouldn't put someone in danger without giving them a chance to back out."

Stiles stayed silent, looking at Derek. He didn't want to believe him and he knew Scott certainly wouldn't, but he did. He believed every word that came out of Derek's mouth. He couldn't help it.

The lights flickered on the field as the last bits of the crowd disbursed. Derek took his eyes off Stiles and looked around, unsure of what it meant.

"They want us off the campus." Stiles said, looking down at himself. He suddenly felt self conscious in his uniform. He felt disgusted by the dried sweat on his skin and patches of dirt on his legs. He couldn't even look Derek in the eyes anymore; he was that embarrassed. Instead he lifted up one side of his shorts and wiped a patch of dirt off his thigh.

Derek's eyes fell back on Stiles. "Maybe having Jackson in the pack will help fix whatever went wrong between the two of you?" He said, trying to ease Stiles.

"Maybe." Stiles said, still not looking at Derek. "I guess I'll see you later."

Derek took notice of Stiles strange behavior, but wrote it off. He nodded at Stiles before walking towards the parking lot.

Stiles stayed rooted to his spot until the lights shut off. He felt like his chest was going to explode and he didn't want to risk Scott seeing him like this.

·

Jackson sat in his Porsche, still parked in the school parking lot. He wanted to smash his hands against his steering wheel or punch a fist through the passenger's seat, but he couldn't. Derek had told him to keep calm and now he couldn't get rid of this zen feeling.

He had wanted to talk to Derek about that, but he saw that Stiles had already beaten him to Derek's side. He wanted to express anger over that as well.

Jackson's thoughts were interrupted by a quick tapping at the passenger window. He unlocked the door. Lydia plopped down in the seat.

"Did you forget you were my ride home?" She said, glaring at him. "Not everyone's parents can afford to buy cars for their children."

Jackson couldn't wipe the passive look off his face. He wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up, but that didn't come out. "You did total the car they bought you for your birthday."

Lydia gave him a funny look. She'd been expecting more of a fight. "You know that wasn't my fault, and I almost died."

Jackson stared out the windshield, he knew for a fact it was Lydia's fault, but he couldn't say that.

"What's wrong with you?" Lydia asked, staring at him. "You didn't play during the game and now you're acting like you're stoned."

Jackson didn't say anything, instead he started his car.

Lydia continued watching him. She wanted to be angry with him, but she couldn't find a reason. He was being too quite. The drive to her house was just as silent.

When they reached her house she tried to invite him up, but he refused.

"You're going to call me, right?" Lydia asked right before she shut the passenger door.

Jackson only nodded and drove off when she closed the door. He didn't call her, instead he spent the weekend trying to get a better understanding of all things werewolf with Derek.


	14. Part 14

PART FOURTEEN

By Monday Scott and Stiles could feel Derek's favoritism towards Jackson. Since the game, Jackson had spent a majority of his time with Derek, or so he claimed. The two could have easily written him off as a lair, but they saw no reason to doubt him.

During Stiles' gym class, Jackson shot him quite a few strange looks as he texted who Stiles presumed to be Derek. Jackson would press send, and then almost sneer at Stiles. It pissed him off, but Stiles could feel the hierarchy between them and allowed Jackson to continue. It wasn't fair, but what could he do?

When Stiles reached his chemistry class he sat at the table next to Scott's. He was more willing to endure Allison and her Argent-ness than see the stupid smug face on Jackson anymore. In this case, Allison was the lesser of two evils.

Stiles had to fight the urge to turn around and see if Jackson was still giving him the stink eye, but according to both Scott and Allison, he was.

Though by the time chemistry ended, Stiles had almost regretted his decision. Between Allison and Scott's constant eye-fucking, Mr. Harris glaring at Stiles with every given opportunity, and creepy Erica having followed him to the front of the classroom and taking the seat next to him, Stiles was just about ready to blow his brains out, but then he thought of that stupid expression on Jackson's face and he was filled with anger. In retrospect he could deal with them.

The first moment Stiles and Scott got away from Allison, Stiles told Scott his suspicions about his conversation with Derek. Allison was returning their lab equipment when Stiles began speaking.

"There is something really wrong with pledging. I don't know why, but it gives Derek this complete power over Jackson."

Scott nodded. "That would explain why Jackson's been keeping to himself more often."

"I tried to ask him about the process, but he wouldn't tell me anything and I'm sure he'll keep trying to convince us to pledge." Stiles looked at Scott with a somber expression. "We can't pledge to Derek. I mean it, we can't give in. I don't want either of us to turn into Jackson."

"I know." Scott said, looking back at Jackson. His eyes met Jackson's before Scott abruptly faced Stiles. "I won't."

"Alright, me neither, but we need to be cautious."

Allison returned to the table once the bell rang to gather her belongings.

At lunch, instead of eating with the couple, Stiles found a nice little spot in the school library to sit at in silence. He enjoyed himself, but unfortunately he missed the interaction at lunch between Scott and Jackson.

·

Even without Stiles around, Scott and Allison sat in their usual spot in the cafeteria, side by side with their arms lightly touching. Though, instead of the typical flirty chatter, they mostly focused on eating their food until Allison brought up the game from last Friday.

"I told you my dad went to the game, right?" Allison asked in between bites. Something about her seemed peculiar today, but Scott nodded anyway. "Well, he was really impressed by you. I mean, you were pretty awesome Friday. You pretty much won the game singlehandedly."

Scott was about to reply when a lunch tray dropped down at their table, interrupting their short-lived conversation. They both looked up at Jackson as he sat down across from them.

"Hey lovebirds, you don't mind if I sit here, right?" Jackson asked, sitting down anyway. He kept his eyes on Scott, taunting him. Derek may have told him he couldn't get angry, but he never said he couldn't be a patronizing prick.

Allison looked from him to Scott before speaking. "Hi Jackson." She lifted her eyebrow at him. Jackson broke eye contact with Scott for a moment just to smile at her.

"What do you want Jackson?" Scott asked glaring up at him.

Jackson relaxed his face and innocently smiled at him. "I just want to enjoy my lunch." He began peeling the orange on his tray. "It is okay if I sit here, right? I mean, it's not like you own the table."

Allison spoke up before Scott had the chance to tell Jackson to fuck off. "Yeah, you can sit here."

Jackson smiled at her again. "Thank you," he held out his hand, "I'm Jackson Whittemore, by the way. And your name is?"

Allison shook his hand. "Allison Argent.. We have chemistry together."

Jackson ignored her comment. "So Allison, did you go to the game Friday?"

"Yes."

"Great." Jackson said, his eyes quickly glanced at Scott. "So you must have seen our dear Scott  _singlehandedly_  win the game. I mean, wow. It was certainly something. It almost didn't seem human." Jackson momentarily rested his elbow on the lunch table and his chin on his palm.

Scott fought back the instinct to growl at Jackson.

"Of course I wish I could have seen it up close, but alas, I was stuck playing goalie. For some reason Danny skipped out on the game. I'm not sure why, there was no reason for him to run off." Now Jackson lifted his head to blatantly glare at Scott. "It's almost like somebody forced him to do it."

"Maybe he didn't feel like playing?" Allison suggested, she was completely unaware of the underlying fight ensuing. But she could sense a layer of tension between Scott and Jackson.

"Yeah, maybe that's why." Scott said, his eyes still firmly on Jackson's. "I remember him saying something about not feeling well too."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm sure Finstock is going to have him running suicide laps for the rest of the semester."

It was at this moment that Lydia spotted Jackson. She stomped her way over to the table. Jackson had spent the entire weekend ignoring her.

"Jackson?" She looked at him, like she expected an answer from him. Jackson held back the urge to roll his eyes.

"Hi Lydia." Jackson said, a forced smile on his face. Allison and Scott stayed silent as they watched them converse. "What is it?"

Lydia sat beside Jackson and tried to whisper to him. "You never called me."

Jackson took his attention off of her and back to his food. He peeled of the last bit of skin from his orange. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Scott and Allison could see Lydia's face grow visible red with embarrassment. "Jackson, I waited all weekend. I really wanted to see you." She gripped Jackson's arm to get his full attention.

Jackson turned to her, a passive uncaring look on his face. "I had better things to do." Lydia glared at him. "Did you eat yet? You're looking a bit peckish."

Lydia took her eyes off Jackson and glared at Scott and Allison before taking off. After a minute or two of silence, Jackson dropped the remainder of his orange on his tray then left the cafeteria.

Allison and Scott looked at each other. Scott spoke first. "Let's never turn into that."

Allison tried to hold back a smile and playfully tugged on Scott's arm "I don't think we're capable of turning into that."

·

Scott and Stiles met back up during their economics class.

Stiles had spent his alone time seriously thinking about Derek and the whole pledging thing.

"I think we should ask Derek what exactly pledging entails." Stiles said, keeping his voice down as they copied the notes up on the board. "Maybe if you're there he'll answer my questions."

"Do you want to pledge to him now?" Scott asked, carefully watching Stiles.

" _No_. No, it's just that.. It bugs me to see Jackson texting Derek, like he knows him so well." Stiles forcefully hit his pen against his notebook.

Scott stifled a smile. "Then let's ask Derek about the pledging thing."

"I don't want Jackson there." Stiles said, looking at Scott. "I can't handle him right now, and if he's being an asshole like you said he was during lunch... I'll lose it."

Scott tapped his pencil against his bottom lip. "Then lets ditch English and head towards the woods or something. You can text him to meet us there."

Stiles nodded. "Alright." They gathered their belongings once the bell rang.

As sneaky as they tried to be, getting caught was inevitable. They weren't the school ditching type. Mr. Harris had found them in the empty hallway before they'd even reached their lockers.

"Don't both of you have class?" Harris asked, surprising them. Stiles and Scott exchanged worried glances. "Don't bother answering that, your faces are enough."

"We were just—" Scott started, but was cut off.

"Don't bother Scott. I'm sure an athlete like you wouldn't dare ditch class, potentially endangering his lacrosse eligibility, now would he?" Harris asked, he had an almost sadistic grin on his face. "Especially after how well you did on Friday."

"No. I guess I wouldn't do that." Scott said. He hadn't felt like there was any other option.

"Good." Harris said, turning in his direction. "So how about you run along to class." Harris swatted his hand.

Scott looked at Stiles. Stiles reluctantly gave him the okay to go, despite the terrible gut wrenching pain in his abdomen. He was starting to get physically sick at the sight of Harris.

Once Scott was out of eyesight, Harris turned towards Stiles, the smile dropped off his face. "And you can come with me."

Stiles felt his stomach drop. He could only imagine the worst. "Why?"

"I'm writing you up." Harris started walking towards his classroom. Stiles silently sighed in relief and followed Harris. "I'm not stupid Stilinski, I know that you and McCall were trying to ditch."

"Then why'd you let Scott go?" They stopped in front of the door to the chemistry room. Harris gave him the almost sadistic smile again.

"One of the many perks to being a teacher is the ability to pick favorites." Harris walked in and began writing Stiles a detention slip. "You're not one of them."

·

After school Scott walked Stiles over to the detention room.

"I'm sorry he only wrote you up." Scott said, awkwardly feeing that this had all been his fault.

"It's fine." Stiles paused a moment. "Well not really, but I can deal with an hour detention."

"Harris' detentions usually last an hour and a half. Sometimes even longer."

Stiles groaned. "Please tell me you'll be doing something exciting while I'm stuck here."

"Allison and I—"

"You can stop there, I already know what you're going to say." Stiles said laughing to himself. "You're probably going out on another magical night of love and frolic."

"Oh come on. Allison and I are not like that." Scott said laughing. Truthfully he was going to remember that 'love and frolic' bit. The pair stopped in front of the door to the detention room. "But yes, Allison and I are going out."

Stiles gave Scott a cheeky smile before walking into the room. "Have fun." He said, before dropping the expression.

The room was relatively empty. Only Mr. Harris and some kid from his chemistry class who had spent the period sleeping were in the room. Stiles had expected more kids. He'd always figured Harris picked kids at random to serve his detentions.

·

Scott and Allison had gone to see an early movie to make up for missing their one week anniversary. Though Allison had acted a bit twitchy throughout the whole thing. Afterwards, they walked around the shops near the movie theater.

Scott lightly tugged on Allison's hands, stopping their slow walk. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Um, yeah, I guess." Allison said, running a hand thought her hair.

In all honesty, Allison was far from okay. Her aunt was still in town and Allison was sure she wasn't doing it on purpose, but lately Kate had been more persistent in her contributions to the BHHA, namely her proposal to attack Derek preemptively before he had a chance to build a pack. While her father completely opposed the idea, and constantly dropped little sly comments on importance of following rules, and the difference between right and wrong. Allison felt like they were trying to manipulate her, rather then letting her lead the group on her own. Of course her version of leading the group was to let her father take charge, but still. It was terribly stressful, and she couldn't tell Scott that. He wouldn't believe her.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Scott asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "You've been acting funny."

"I've been so stressed out lately." Allison said, quickly looking into Scott's eyes.

"Was it midterms? They always stress me out." Allison lightly giggled. She couldn't believe she was hiding such a major part of her life from him. Here he was, being all cute and adorable, and thinking she was concerned about midterms.

"It was something like that."

"I wouldn't worry, you're probably the smartest person I've ever met. I'm sure you did fine."

Allison smiled at Scott. It was the kind of smile you give someone you love when they aren't even close to comprehending the situation at hand. If it had been anybody else she wouldn't have even bothered, but the look on his face and the arm around her put her at ease. It was like a rush of tranquility had run over her. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

They stayed like that until they heard Jackson's voice call to them.

"Hey Lovebirds!" Jackson walked to them, Lydia by his side, smirking at them. "Fancy running into you two."

Scott glared at him. He knew this wasn't a coincidence. Not at all.

Lydia held her hand out towards Allison, waiting for her to shake it. "I'm Lydia Martin, who are you?"

Allison quickly shook her hand. "I'm Allison Argent. Um, don't we have about four classes together?"

Lydia thought about it for a moment, pursing her lips together. "I never noticed you." She adverted her gaze from Allison and on to Scott. She smiled at him. "Hi Scott. I didn't say it earlier at lunch, but great game on Friday. It was  _enticing_. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you."

Scott half smiled at Lydia. He wasn't sure how to take that. Allison held on to his arm a little tighter.

"Lydia, didn't you want to rent a movie for tonight?" Jackson asked, lightly patting her back, guiding her away.

Lydia looked at Allison and smiled. "I did. Allison you should go with me to the rental store, it's just over there." Lydia pointed to a shop and pulled Allison along with her. They walked down the street, leaving Scott and Jackson to themselves.

Allison pulled her arm out of Lydia grasp once they reached the shop. "What the hell was that?" She asked, walking in with Lydia.

Lydia sighed, her perky expression had immediately dropped. She looked around the aisles of movies with minimal interest. "You know how boys are, they like to have some alone time to compare." Lydia looked out of the shop's front window, trying to spy on Jackson. "I think I'll get  _The Notebook_ , or is that too predictable?" Lydia bit her bottom lip, concentrating on what she could see of Scott's back.

Allison stared at Lydia incredulously. "I don't understand you."

Lydia sighed, then looked back at Allison. "Every girl 'loves'  _The Notebook_. I mean, I guess it's  _okay_ , but it's undoubtedly overrated. Maybe I should find some action movie with a lot explosions?"

Allison rolled her eyes at Lydia. "I was talking more about why you're out with Jackson today? He treated you like crap in the cafeteria. You can't let him do that. You're a human being with feelings and he was obviously hurting them."

Lydia looked back at Allison again, a wide smile on her face like she was about to laugh. "It was all a male dominance thing." Lydia looked back out the window. "I actually thought it was pretty hot."

Allison ignored Lydia from then on and searched through the store's bountiful selection.

·

Scott had stayed silent, watching Jackson. Jackson continued smirking. Neither of them took their eyes off each other.

"I bet you're wondering how I found you, right?"

Scott silently nodded, still not talking.

"I followed Allison's car. You know, it's really sad when the chick has to chauffeur her boyfriend around. It must be embarrassing for you." Scott stayed silent. "Derek doesn't know about her yet, does he? You wouldn't be pissed if I told him, right?

That broke Scott's silence. "She's innocent, and I don't want her getting involved in this werewolf stuff."

Jackson's smile widened. "Shouldn't that be her choice? Just let Derek ask her if she wants the bite."

"No."

"Why? Are you scared she'll rank higher than you? Pledge your loyalty, then you'll be a head beta like me." Jackson leaned against the stone wall of the building besides them.

"Did Derek tell you to find me, to try to convince me to pledge?" Jackson shook his head no, a smile still on his face. "Did he even warn you about the hunters? Or about the full moon? He might have stopped you from shifting at the game Friday, but when the full moon comes he won't be able to help you."

"I don't care, McCall." Jackson said laughing. "I feel great  _now_. Better than I have in months and that's all thanks to Derek."

Scott couldn't believe this. Jackson took notice to look on his face.

"Jesus, McCall. You should be thanking Derek instead of acting out like a three year old brat. He gave you a gift. Because of him you're a star athlete, you have a girlfriend, and people finally give a shit about you." Jackson crossed his arm, his face had fallen into a firm stare. "You're life has significantly improved and Derek is solely responsible for that, the  _least_ you can do is pledge to him.

"And you know what? When Derek bit me he told me that being a part of his pack would keep me safe. That by being a part of his pack I would finally feel like I belong somewhere, and God knows I'm finally starting to feel like I do. You're denying yourself the chance to be a part of something special Scott. Both you and Stiles."

Scott stared out into the road, seriously considering what Jackson had said. He was starting to think he was right.

Jackson paused for a moment and a slight smile spread across his face. "Well probably more you than Stiles. He and Derek always seem to be talking to each other, all alone. It actually kind of hurts to think that's he's finally gotten over me."

Scott hadn't paid attention to last part. He was still consumed in his thoughts when Lydia and Allison returned from the store.

Lydia wrapped her arms around Jackson's waist. "I guess we'll see you two at school tomorrow." Jackson said, grinning as he and Lydia walked off.

Allison tried telling Scott how horrible her time spent with Lydia had been and that may be slightly psychotic, but Scott didn't listen. Instead he ran over Jackson's words again. They echoed in his head.

·

Scott laid in bed, still thinking over what Jackson had said, until he came to a sudden conclusion. Jackson was right.

Out of impulse, Scott jumped out of bed and got dressed to go out. He texted Derek.

_I want to pledge_

It wasn't even a minute before Derek replied.

_Meet me on the bridge over the creek_

For a moment, Scott thought he might be making a mistake, but he shook the feeling. He was going to do this. His mind was set, and he met Derek as promised.

Scott didn't even think of what he and Stiles had discussed until the next day.

·

Stiles had woken up around one in the morning. He felt that same distinct feeling he'd had when Jackson had joined the pack.

He reached for his cell phone and tried calling Scott. He was worried Derek had picked another person to add to the pack. When he didn't answer the first time he tried again. Stiles had probably called a dozen times before he realized why Scott wasn't answering.

Stiles laid back against his bed. He felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Scott had pledged.

The thought sounded wronged, but it he knew it was right.

Stiles clenched his fists and hit his mattress. He wasn't going to pledge his loyalty. He wasn't going to give in.


	15. Part 15

PART FIFTEEN

Before Stiles left for school, he tried calling Scott again, but he still didn't pick up. Stiles knew he shouldn't worry, if Scott pledged his loyalty to Derek it wouldn't matter, nothing was going to change. But then again, the moment they got the bite  _everything_  changed and even now he and Scott weren't as close as they used to be. Stiles was hardly even on Scott's radar anymore.

When Stiles got to school he saw Scott, sitting on the hood of Jackson's Porsche. Jackson sat beside him and they were chatting, their bodies much closer to each other than Stiles would have preferred. Stiles would have listened on their conversation, but the school bell rang, cutting them off. Stiles tried calling Scott one last time, but he still didn't get an answer.

Stiles sat in his first class of the day with his head in his hands. He didn't know for sure that Scott had pledged, he was still only assuming, but the evidence seemed to be stacking up. Regardless, Stiles kept reminding himself to keep his faith in Scott alive.

During gym class Stiles kept catching Jackson eye him. Stiles tried ignoring him, but Jackson found a chance to talk to him alone.

"How does it feel to be the odd man out?" Jackson asked, sitting out the latest game of basketball. He stood next to Stiles on the outskirts of the court. Jackson kept his eyes on Stiles', and every so often would start to lean in closer to him. Stiles would have looked back, but when he spent too much time focusing on Jackson's face he always ended up with an awkward hate boner.

Jackson continued on, "Well, I suppose you were always the odd man out, being the freak that you are, but now more than ever. Even your best friend left you out in the cold." Jackson tsked. "You know what they say, if you can't beat 'em, you might as well join 'em."

Stiles took a moment to look at Jackson and glare. "I'm not gonna pledge and turn into a mindless zombie like you."

Jackson scoffed and hit his hand to his chest. He acted out faux pain with a smile on his face. "Is that any way to talk to a head beta?"

Stiles wanted to punch Jackson's smug face so badly, but he knew he couldn't. He unclenched his fingers when he gauged just how worked up he was getting.

"Aw, don't be angry Stiles, just go to Derek tonight and tell him you want it. You do want it right?" Jackson chuckled as he shifted from his spot. "I'm sure Derek's waiting for your call."

Stiles watched Jackson return to the game. He was an asshole, but he had confirmed it. Scott had pledged, but Stiles still didn't want to believe it. How could Scott just up and change his mind? Just the other day they promised each other they wouldn't pledge.

When Stiles got to chemistry he saw Scott and Jackson sitting at the tables next to each other. They were speaking like they were friends and laughing like they'd know each other since they were little kids.

Stiles could feel the emotions running off of them. They were genuinely getting along. He could hear them talking about lacrosse practice and how they could take state this year. Stiles felt like his chest was imploding and everything around him was falling to pieces. This was Stiles life now.

"Hey Stiles." Allison said, walking up to the doorway. She stood besides him, looking into the room as the bell rang. She stared at Scott and Jackson's backs with Stiles. "That's  _really_  weird." She glanced at Stiles. "Last night Scott and I ran into Jackson. There was so much tension between them you could literally cut it with a knife. I kind of thought they didn't like each other."

"Now they're acting like best friends." Stiles added, he knew what he had to do. Stiles had to talk to Derek and.. do something. He wasn't sure what, but he had to see Derek.

Allison watched him turn from the room and walk away. She found this odd as well, as far as she knew Scott and Stiles hadn't had a fight. She slightly frowned as she walked into class.

"Hey Allison," Scott said as she sat down beside him.

"Hey Allison." Jackson said as well. Allison didn't know how to act around him, but she figured that if Scott was getting along with Jackson, she should too.

"Hi," she said to both of them. She turned more towards Scott to keep Jackson out of the conversation. "Do you know what's wrong with Stiles? I just saw him, but he didn't come into class."

"Don't worry about him." Jackson said, cutting into the conversation. "He's just adjusting to some new changes."

·

Stiles was out of school and almost at the parking lot when he heard Mr. Harris call his name again. He stood in the doorway to the main entrance. He had followed him out of the building.

"A repeat offense Stilinski?" Harris said walking towards Stiles. "I just wrote you up for this yesterday. Did you forget or are you just so inane that you didn't care?"

Stiles turned back to look at his teacher. He felt his fist clench.

"Did you think I wouldn't see walk out of my class? You went right past me."

"I was never actually inside of the room, so you couldn't have seen me 'walk out'." Stiles said glaring. He wasn't about to put up with this, he needed to talk to Derek and he wasn't going to let Harris get in the way of that again.

Mr. Harris seemed taken aback by the statement. "And here I was going to be generous and only give you a detention for today. Now I'm starting think a week will suffice. How does that sound?"

"I'm not doing that." Stiles said. He hadn't a fuck to give, so he turned around and tried walking towards the parking lot again. Harris grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to stop him, but Stiles knocked off his hand. "Don't touch me."

Stiles felt his anger boil and bile rise in his throat.

"You're going back inside the school, right now and maybe if you behave yourself I won't report you to the principal." Harris glared at Stiles, trying to reach for him.

Stiles continued glaring back. "Yeah, and what if I tell my father, you know, the town sheriff, about the night I found you in the woods. Or maybe I should go principal instead, I'm sure he'd love to hear my story."

The expression on Harris' face immediately dropped. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the night I found you wasted. It was about two weeks ago give or take a few days. You threw yourself on me."

Stiles could hear Harris' breath go shallow and see his eyes start to water. "That really happened? I ran into you?" He paused, trying to catch his breath. "I hadn't had a drink in years, but I was having such a terrible week and I.. I'm so sorry Stiles I really don't remember what happened."

Stiles felt his stomach drop. He hadn't expected this kind of reaction from Harris. Stiles hadn't expected him to break down. He could feel the dread running off Harris.

"I thought I imagined that night. I woke up in my house." Harris ran a hand over his head, lifting up his glasses and slightly pulling at the ends of his hair. "I feel like I remember seeing you out there, and I remember looking over the bridge and thinking that I.." Harris stopped talking and looked down, like the night was all coming back to him.

Stiles didn't want to believe him, but now he could feel his sincerity. He meant every word. He almost felt like he was drowning in Harris' pain.

Harris looked up at Stiles, "I am so sorry."

Stiles felt terrible for what he was doing, but he had to get out of there. He took a step back from his teacher. "I'm still gonna go and you're gonna let me."

Harris looked at Stiles like he wanted to stop him, but he stayed silent. The broken expression on his face still hadn't changed.

Stiles walked out to parking lot and stopped beside his car before getting in. He checked to see if Harris was still where they'd been talking. He could see him walking back inside. Stiles sat in his jeep, staring out the windshield for a moment, gripping the steering wheel too tightly. He felt terrible, maybe even worse than he had about Scott pledging, but he reminded himself that's what done is done.

He texted Derek, telling him to meet him at the woods in a few minutes. Stiles drove off, doing his best to push all thoughts of Mr. Harris out of his mind.

·

Stiles waited for Derek out in the woods. He walked over to the bridge he'd run into Mr. Harris on. He couldn't walk on, he still felt too guilty. Stiles stayed in his spot and considered pledging. He thought that maybe he should become some kind of smiling zombie like Jackson. Maybe then he wouldn't be such jackass.

He ran his hand over his face. Stiles knew that what he did to Mr. Harris was going to come back and bite him in the ass, not now, but someday.

After a few minutes of mindlessly wandering around, Stiles returned to his jeep and found Derek waiting there. He was facing Stiles, leaning against the driver's side door with his hands in his jacket pockets.

Stiles didn't know if he should be angry with Derek. Scott had sworn his loyalty to Derek by his own regard. Stiles figured he probably would have been angry, had it not been for his encounter with Harris. Now all he could do is stare at Derek.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked, standing up a little straighter.

Stiles shrugged before leaning beside him. "Nothing, I guess."

"Oh, I thought you called me here because you were angry that Scott pledged. Unless you want to pledge too?" Derek asked, a small smile on his face.

Stiles looked at him with an expression of sheer disbelief on his face. "No, that's probably the last thing I want and not the reason I came here."

"Oh come on." Derek said, looking out ahead. "There are worse things than pledging your loyalty to me."

"I guess hearing nails scratch on a chalkboard is a little worse, but I'm still on the fence about that."

Derek rolled his eyes at him. "Maybe I don't need you to pledge. You'll probably do anything I tell you regardless." Derek gave Stiles this almost patronizing smile, or rather, an arrogant smirk. Stiles couldn't decide which phrasing he preferred more, but either way he was committing the expression to memory. He'd probably get around to using it eventually. "I'm right aren't I?"

Stiles leaned his head back against his jeep. He was really starting to hate the word 'pledging' and all this talk about it. He felt like he was in some college fraternity. "If I did everything you told me, wouldn't I have already pledged?"

Derek gave a small laugh. "Yeah I guess."

Stiles looked back at Derek again. The sound of his laugh had momentarily caught him off guard, but he brought himself back. "So, uh, that's a part of the loyalty isn't it? You tell the other person something and then they have to follow it."

Derek nodded. "That's most of it."

"So you told Jackson that he couldn't get angry, that's why he's been so bizarrely upbeat lately."

"I didn't think it would hurt. He's a pretty depressed kid, and he gets so lonely. He spent most of the weekend hanging around me."

"And if you think he gets lonely, you probably told Scott to hang out him."

Derek smiled at Stiles while turning towards him. "This is why I'm glad I have someone like you in my pack, Stiles. You get the way that I think." Stiles committed this smile to memory as well. "I only want to help them. I wouldn't make them do something they couldn't follow through."

"But what happens if they can't follow something through?" Stiles asked. The look on Derek's face told him he didn't want to say. "You said I had figured out most of it, what do I not know?"

Derek looked away from Stiles and out into the woods ahead of him. "If they can't follow through, then they can turn into abominations."

"What does that mean?"

Derek shrugged. "I don't know, I've never seen it happen. I've never even  _heard_  of it really happening. People who have sworn their loyalty don't break the pledge. Nobody even knows what abominations are supposed to look like."

"Then why have them swear their loyalty if  _that's_  a possibility?"

Derek shrugged, but Stiles got the feeling he still wasn't being entirely honest. He could feel something akin to fear coming from Derek, like he was afraid of being alone. "Abominations never happen. It would take some kind of serious betrayal and that's only  _if_  it happens."

"Do they know about this?" Stiles asked, trying to ignore the emotions rolling off of Derek. He had to set his priorities straight. Scott and Jackson may not have been on his good list, but somebody had to look out for them. Stiles knew they couldn't do it for themselves.

"They know that if they betray me, something bad will come of it."

Stiles could feel the consequences of this knowledge pressing down on him. He could tell Scott what he knew, but was that really the right thing to do?

"How do you do the loyalty thing, it's like some it's of ritual, right?"

"If you want to know, you have to pledge."

"I'm not doing that." Stiles stood up straight like he wanted to leave, but Derek was in his way. He was about to ask Derek to move, but he spoke before Stiles got the chance.

"Come back here tonight and we'll do it." Derek said before moving to the side and letting Stiles get into his jeep.

Stiles didn't go back that night, and he didn't tell Scott what he'd learned. He couldn't even bring himself to repeat the words. Stiles knew that if he said them the possibility of Scott turning into an abomination would become even more real.

Instead he stayed home all night and laid in bed, thinking about what his life had come to. A month ago his biggest concern was finishing his senior year. Now he could hardly stand an entire day at school without worrying about some werewolf related problem.

Stiles held his breath and stared at the ceiling. He let his body feel the chilly air blowing throw his open window. If he closed his eyes, he almost felt like he was asleep. But then he'd open them and remember he wasn't.

 

**Interlude**

She stood in front of her mirror, brushing out her hair one last time. It was weird wearing if down. In her profession, up-do styles were an expectation. She looked over her outfit in the reflection, swaying from side to side for different angles. She wasn't the strapless kind of woman, but she felt like it was working for her tonight.

She looked down at her bed where she'd left laptop open. She had two unread messages, both from Chris Argent. She groaned as she shut the screen. Ever since the animal attack in Mission Fault, he'd been expecting her to send updates on the hour, as if the attack hadn't been a random act of nature, natural or supernatural.

She grabbed her bag and left her apartment. Tonight wasn't about work, responsibilities, or that sheriff who refused to take her advances seriously; it was about having fun and letting loose. She may have not been the best in her field, but she earned one night off.


	16. Part 16

**Act 2: Epic Dreams**

PART SIXTEEN

Stiles woke up to a loud rustling in his bedroom. He sat up to see Scott sitting at the foot of his bed.

"What are you doing here?" Stiles asked. He picked up his cell phone to check the time. He turned the screen towards Scott. "Dude, it's like one in the morning."

"I couldn't sleep." Scott said, sitting with his hands on his lap.

"So you thought you should wake me up?" Stiles threw his phone down at his side. He hadn't noticed it when he first checked, but he had an unread text.

"I just can't shake the feeling that you're mad at me." Scott gave Stiles one of his classic puppy dog face. "You're not, are you?"

Stiles controlled the urge to roll his eyes at Scott. "I just don't get why you'd swear your loyalty to Derek. It doesn't make sense."

"I know it's weird, but I feel great." Scott grew a smile over his face. "I mean it Stiles. I'm even getting along with Jackson, and he's really not that bad. It's like he and Derek are my family or something. It's this epic, serene feeling, like I understand what it means to be a part of a pack."

"But we said we wouldn't." Stiles bit the inside of his lip in anger.

"I know," Scott said, his grin dropping.

Stiles sighed. "I'm not mad at you Scott." Stiles wasn't sure if he necessarily meant that, but he didn't know what else to say and the last thing he wanted was to start a fight.. I didn't matter, it was enough for Scott.

"Awesome." He jumped up and quickly hugged Stiles. "Thanks buddy." Scott walked over to Stiles' window.

Stiles checked his phone again. He had received a text from an unknown number, but he presumed it was from Jackson based on the content alone.

_Hey asshole where are you? Derek's waiting for you._

Stiles ignored the messages and looked up at Scott, it was in that moment he realized how he'd gotten into his room. It reminded him of the night Derek snuck in. "Did you crawl through my window?"

Scott shrugged, "It was open."

He was about to leave when he noticed Stiles father getting into the police cruiser parked in the driveway. "Hey Stiles, where's your dad going?"

Stiles walked over to his window and stood beside Scott. He watched his father quickly drive off. "I don't know. He usually wakes me up and tells me if he has to leave. It must have been an emergency or something."

·

"You're Sheriff Stilinski from Beacon Hills, right?" The nervous deputy shook his hand as he closed his car door. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun and her eyes watery. She had quickly thrown her uniform over her civilian clothes.

"That's correct." He examined the area of woods sealed off with bright yellow tape. The only other deputy in sight was a young man, early twenties, talking to a rather rough looking homeless man. He pulled a flashlight out of his glove compartment before continuing his conversation with the deputy.

"I'm so sorry to call you out this late at night, I know this is still out of your city's limit, but I didn't know who else to call." She held her hand over her chest.

"What about Carmelita Mendez? She's still the sheriff in Mission Fault, correct?" He could hear ambulance sirens in the distance as he spoke.

The girl's condition worsened. "That's the problem, she's the," the deputy covered her mouth as she started crying. She pointed towards the opening in the tape.

Stiles' father quickly walked past her and around the yellow tape in the direction she had pointed to. He turned on his flashlight once he was out of the head lights. He saw a bright patch of blood pooled on the ground. A few yards past that, a trail began. He followed the traces of blood and manmade notches along the trees. The further into the forest he went, the more the scratches seemed to resemble claw marks.

He found her body a good 30 yards from the road, and Stilinski could smell her a few feet away. Sheriff Mendez's body looked like she had been thrown on the ground. He kneeled down beside Carmelita to examine her corpse. Her clothes had been torn, though that could have been from the dragging, and her neck had bruise marks about the size of an average adult males' hand. But what really struck the sheriff as peculiar were the punctures on her torso. There were five large holes in her clothes indicating five stab wounds, but they seemed perfectly proportional to that of a human's hand.

The last thing that caught the sheriff's attention was Carmelita's choice in clothing. He had known Carmen quite well for a long time and he'd never he seen her so dolled up. Her hair was down from her usual bun, she had make up on her face, and she was wearing a bright blue strapless dress. She even wore the silly orange spider pendant he'd bought her for her 30th birthday. He was sure she looked beautiful before the whole incident.

The sheriff walked out from the woods and returned to the deputy. She'd managed to calm herself down quite a bit with help from the other deputy. He had his arms wrapped around her.

She looked at him as he returned. "I'm sorry, that was so unprofessional of me." The other deputy patted her arms as he released her.

"It's okay." Stiles' father said. He understood how she felt. "You must have known her very well." The female deputy nodded, while the other stood forward.

"Sheriff, I'm deputy Reynolds and this is deputy Polt," he pointed towards the female. "I was on duty when Adam Lang," he pointed to the civilian standing beside the two Mission Fault police issued vehicles, "Walked into the station and told me what he'd found. I've already recorded his statement as well."

"Are you two the only active deputies in town?"

Reynolds nodded. "Yes sir. This is a pretty small community, there hasn't been much need for more than three of us until now."

"I know, I was here a week and a half ago with Mendez. I was working with her on the last case. She told me she planned on expanding the force here."

"She did." Deputy Polt said, coming into the conversation. "She was going to speak at the town meeting this Friday." Reynolds ran his hand over her arm again.

The sheriff ran a hand over his face. He was trying to keep as objective as possible, but he still couldn't believe this had happened to Carmen, she was such a great woman. Deep down, Stiles' father couldn't help but feel the slightest bit responsible for her. He'd been the one who got her interested in law enforcement in the first place. He'd also directed her Mission Fault so she could run for the sheriff's position.

"Sheriff, if you don't mind me asking, could you tell how it happened?" Reynolds asked, a painful look on his face. Polt covered her mouth, but listened in for his response.

"It's difficult to be sure, were gonna have to wait for the coroner's report for any kind of conformation, but it looks like an animal attack."

"But is it like the last attack? Does the body show signs of human involvement?" Reynolds asked, his voice almost cracking when he referred to Carmelita as 'the body'.

"It does, but there's no way a human could have dragged her ninety feet into the woods, and the speed he would have had to have gone. There were only small traces of blood the entire way down to the site. No human could have dragged her out there without leaving a trail with significantly larger amounts."

"I just don't understand how any of this is happening." Polt said, wiping at her eyes again. "That attack last week, and now Carmen.."

"Do you know where Carmen was going last night? She was very dressed up."

Both Reynolds and Polt shook their heads no.

"She never said anything about a special occasion or going out for the night." Polt said, trying to regain a steady breath.

"Was there anything strange about her behavior the day before?"

"Not at all. She was perfectly normal." Reynolds said, wrapping an arm back around Polt.

Stiles' father sighed. He had a long day ahead of him.

·

Once news had hit Beacon Hills about a second animal attack in Mission Fault, Allison was in a panic. After school she immediately went home to discus it with her father.

"Dad, we have to do something, these two deaths are too similar they can't both be animal attacks." Allison paced up and down her kitchen, her hands playing with a small arrowhead, scratching it along the palms of her hands.

"They might be." Chris said, sitting at the kitchen table. One side of the table had silverware that needed to be wiped down, while the other side had Allison's schoolwork. She had been studying, but got distracted when she started having the discussion with her father.

"Aren't you always saying that werewolves try to cover their tracks, by making it look like a hiking accident?"

"No, your aunt Kate always says that. And for all I know, there might be a werewolf in Mission Fault, and he could be innocent. We can't jump to conclusions that might make us break the code." Chris gave Allison a pointed look. "There are telltale signs of a werewolf attack, usually they leave a calling card, something insignificant that the police might over look, but it'll always make the papers. When it does, we'll go in."

Allison crossed her arms. "Well, as of right now Mission Fault is completely unguarded, I think we should send a few guys to patrol the woods out in there for a while. Even if it is just an animal attacking people, we should do whatever we can to help. And it'll look good for the association."

Chris nodded at that. "We should help. Maybe we can—"

"Allison, don't worry about that small little town." Kate said walking into the room. She'd only caught the last bit of the conversation. "We need to focus on here. Derek Hale is still running loose. If we're going to send guys patrolling anywhere, it should be in our own backyard. We've got to cover our asses."

"But my mom is in Mission Fault, and I don't want werewolves anywhere near her." Allison said, pausing her pace. "If there's a chance we can help people it should take priority over—"

"Allison, all the time we wait is only helping Derek," Kate hit her hand down on the kitchen table, silencing both Allison and Chris. "We need to act now, we've waited long enough. I've been talking to a few of the guys from the association and they agree."

"You're going behind my back?" Allison asked, almost dropping the arrowhead from her hand.

"I'm trying to help you Allison, but you refuse to do anything. If you had listened to me back in the parking lot, things would have already been handled." Kate stood up straight, raising her voice.

"Kate, that's enough." Chris said, standing from his seat. "Allison gets to make the calls here and whatever she says goes."

"Stop babying her Chris! She needs to learn to make the tough decisions, and we've waited long enough."

"Fine." Allison said, she'd stopped pacing and looked at her aunt and father. "Tonight you, dad, and a few other guys can go patrolling, but if you don't find anything we'll focus our energy on helping Mission Fault.

"You'll focus on the northern section, where Derek's house was." Allison said, uncrossing her arms.

"Won't you be joining us Allison?" Chris asked.

"I'm studying with a friend tonight."

"All right," Chris said getting up from the table. "I go inform James and Densen, they've been begging to go patrolling for a long time.

Kate turned to Allison and smiled at her. "That's my girl. We need to take a stand against the werewolves in Beacon Hills."

"Isn't Derek the only werewolf?"

"Sweetie, werewolf rule number one: always build the pack. By now he's probably reeled in some poor unsuspecting kid." Kate crossed her arms, she gave Allison an almost accusatory look. "So what's the real reason you don't want to go?"

"I really have to study." Allison said, shrugging her shoulders.

·

Allison wasn't studying with a friend. She and Scott had met up at his house. Then he drove her to a surprise location.

He'd driven them to the edge of town at a clearing in the woods. Allison was sure they were far from her dad and Kate.

Scott smiled at Allison when he parked the car. Allison smiled back. The moment was perfect, they were completely alone and Allison was ready to lose her virginity.

Scott ran a hand threw his hair. "I'm sorry were so far out of town, but I wanted to go somewhere we'd be alone."

Allison thought he was reaching for her when pulled his backpack from the back seat. "I brought sandwiches and water." Scott pulled out the paper bag and a thermos. "My mom made them for us, and I brought hot chocolate, in case it gets cold." Scott smiled at Allison again, almost laughing. "I'm really bad at this."

Allison took the sandwiches from Scott and pushed away the thermos. "Scott, I love the effort put into this, but are we going to have sex?"

Scott's expression turned nervous. "I brought condoms just in case."

Allison gave a sigh of relief. "Good, I didn't bring anything. I was worried you didn't and that we'd have to go back into town."

"You are literally the best girlfriend ever." Scott said smiling.

Allison smiled back, until she saw her aunt waving to her from outside the driver's window.

"Oh God." Allison said, getting out of the car. "Stay here Scott."

Scott looked out the window and saw Allison's aunt smiling at him.

Allison quickly walked over to her aunt. "Kate, what are you doing here? I said to patrol the north side."

Scott listened in from inside the car. He was surprised to hear Allison so angry. She was never angry.

Kate ignored her and put all her attention on Scott. "Is that your boyfriend? And here I thought you were actually studying." Allison tried to stand in her way, but she still got a good glimpse of Scott. "Oh he is cute."

Scott smiled to himself.

"Kate, where's my dad? Is he around here or not?"

Kate scoffed. "Sweetie do you really think he could keep up with me?"

Chris jogged over to the pair. "Keeping up wasn't that hard." He looked at Allison. "Why are you here, I thought you were studying?"

Allison ran her hand over her forehead. She didn't think this night could possibly get any worse, until Chris noticed Scott sitting in the driver's seat.

"Who's that and why was he driving your car?"

"It's not important dad."

"So long as I'm paying the car insurance, whatever I ask is important."

Kate laughed. "Jesus, Chris, lighten up. It's just her boyfriend."

Chris looked at Allison again, "Since when do you have a boyfriend?"

"I think we should meet him." Kate said, starting towards the car.

Allison stopped her. "I'll introduce you later, I promise." She looked both at Kate and her father. "But how's the patrol going? No sign of Derek or any other werewolves?"

"No, not yet." Her father said, his eyes glancing at Scott then at Allison. "We're going to have a long talk about this at home." Allison rolled her eyes.

Kate stifled a laugh. "It's alright Chris." She smiled at Allison and waved at Scott. "We should go back out there. We'll see you at the house." Chris looked like he wanted to put up a fight, but he ultimately went along with his sister.

Allison sighed in relief when they left her sight and went back to her car. She turned towards Scott, an apologetic look on her face. "I am so sorry about that."

Scott half smiled at her, a horrible wrenching feeling in his gut. He wasn't sure what was going on, but Allison and her family knew about werewolves and it terrified him. He had to tell Derek, immediately. "Don't worry about it." He said, composing himself enough to form words.

"I should probably head home. My dad is probably pretty mad, I didn't tell him I was out with you, and he thought I was studying."

"Ok." Scott said, putting the car in reverse. The car ride back to Allison's house was awkwardly quiet and uncomfortable.

·

Stiles had gotten an emergency text from Scott to go to his house as soon as possible. He arrived at about the same time as Jackson. They awkwardly walked into Scott's house at the same time while refusing to speak to each other.

Scott let them in and moments later Derek showed up. Scott gathered everybody in his empty house and sat them in the living room. His mother was still at the hospital working.

"Why did you call us here Scott?" Stiles asked, sitting on the sofa. He sat on the edge, next to Derek then Jackson. He looked around the room and realized the only person he could stand in the room was Derek.

Scott fidgetted with his fingers before looking at Derek. He took a moment to think over his question. "I want to know more about the hunters. How would I know if I found a group of them?"

"You'd know if you did." Derek said, trying to gage how serious Scott was being. "It'd be pretty obvious."

"Did you see some?" Stiles asked.

"Well I was out with Allison when her aunt Kate and her dad showed up. They had some hunting equipment and they were talking about werewolves and you, Derek."

Derek felt a quick realization when Scott said Kate's name. "You saw Kate Argent out there?"

Scott nodded, "Yeah, I guess."

"Allison's last name is Argent, right?" Stiles asked.

Jackson jumped into the conversation. "A.A. Like the initials you found on the arrow."

"What arrow?" Stiles asked, looking from Jackson to Derek.

"Derek has this arrow with the initials A.A. in his apartment." Jackson said, looking at Stiles, an air of arrogance in his voice.

Stiles turned his attention to Derek. He wasn't sure if he was more curious about the arrow or the fact that Derek had some apartment that Jackson had been to. Derek looked back at Stiles. "A while ago I was chased in broad daylight by Kate Argent and some brown haired girl. I was hit by an arrow doused in wolfsbane and it had the initials A.A. I know Kate isn't a very good shot with anything that requires any actual manual labor. It had to have been the girl."

"No," Scott started, his voice slightly shaky. He didn't want to believe Allison could be out to kill them. "It couldn't have been Allison. She'd never do something like that."

Stiles looked at Scott. "It makes sense Scott. You told me she had some kind of mercenary in her garage, for all we know they have werewolf specific weapons in there too."

"You're not going to make me break up with her, are you?" Scott asked looking back at Derek, part of him hoped he'd say yes.

Derek shook his head no. "We can use this. You need to get closer to her family incase if they let something slip."

Scott nodded. He didn't think this was a good idea, but he would go along with.


End file.
